Wild Child
by FluffyLiz
Summary: Just months away from inheriting a fortune and the family business, 17 year old orphan, Bella, is out of control – a wild child with a platinum card and a killer bod. Can Edward, as her legal guardian and CEO of Swan Publishing, rein her in and prevent her from ruining everything he's worked for? AH, OOC. Rated M for language, adult situations and dramatic plotlines.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; this storyline and all original characters are the proptery of the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Just for clarification, because my Bella is English, I will be using UK English spelling and expressions throughout, even though Edward is American and some of this story will take place in the US. However, where we have direct access to Edward's thoughts I will lean towards Americanisms (but not spelling). Where I think there may be some confusion I will give an explanation/translation in my End Notes. The entire story is told in third person narrative.

Huge thanks to MauiGirl for her enthusiasm and support and for editing my ridiculously tortuous sentences. I am immensely grateful for her help in getting this, finally, to a stage where it can be posted.

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**CHAPTER ONE  
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**Thursday 24 March 2011**

The sleek, dark green car tore into the driveway of the impressive Victorian mansion, the creamy stucco façade standing in stark contrast to the verdant green of the lawned rectangle fronting the building.

Squealing to a stop in front of the main doors, the car's occupant took a moment to try and quell his fury, which the two hour drive from London had done little to dampen. Leaning back against the buttery leather upholstery of his Aston Martin DB9, he put his hands up to his face, rubbing his eyes and then sliding his long, elegant fingers through the mass of coppery hair crowning his chiselled features. Finally, taking a deep breath, he lowered his hands to the steering wheel and turned his head towards the sprawling building.

Roedean—arguably Britain's most famous and finest private girls' school—lay in the stunningly picturesque setting of England's South Downs, a stone's throw from Brighton's designer boutiques, café society and vibrant nightlife. Under other circumstances, the man would have delighted in the beauty of his surroundings, revelling in the stereotypical Englishness of the lush Sussex countryside. However, this was not such an occasion, and after muttering a barely audible expletive, he threw open the car door and unfolded his long, lean, be-suited frame with a languid grace which even a casual observer would note as inherently natural.

Entering through the panelled double doors, the man stopped just inside the entrance to speak to the receptionist sitting within the mahogany and glass enclosure to his right. The middle-aged woman with the improbably bright, carrot-red hair, looked up at the visitor and narrowly avoided sighing out loud at the Adonis before her. Smiling quickly to cover her embarrassment, she took a surreptitious breath and spoke.

"Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?"

"Edward Cullen—Mrs Banner is expecting me," he responded tersely, his accent clearly identifying his American origins.

"Oh, yes, Mr Cullen, of course. Just one moment, please." Margaret Cope—for such was her name, picked out in gold letters on the dark wood block in front of her—felt her smile slip a little at his brusqueness, but nevertheless immediately picked up her phone and tapped out a number. The call was quickly answered. "Mrs Banner, Mr Cullen has arrived… very well… yes… of course."

She hung up the phone and looked up at the man in front of her, taking in his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Cullen," she said, smiling brightly at him, "Mrs Banner will be right out."

He stared at the woman for a moment, a look of frustration evident on his face, before turning away from the desk and striding over to the seating area opposite. He didn't sit, however, clearly annoyed at the delay and too wound up to let himself relax. Fortunately, he was not kept waiting more than a minute or two, and he swung round at the sound of his name being spoken in clipped Home Counties tones behind him.

"Mr Cullen, I'm Davina Banner, it's nice to see you again—although one would wish it to be in happier circumstances." She smiled at him, holding out her hand. Edward took in the tall, thin, rather mousy looking woman before him, taking her hand and shaking it firmly before dropping it and pulling his arm back to his side.

"Indeed, Mrs Banner. This really is extremely inconvenient—I can ill-afford the time to come down here every time Isabella breaks the rules. Isn't that why I pay your exorbitant school fees—to keep the girl _in_ school and _out_ of trouble?"

Unperturbed by his outburst, Mrs Banner smiled and turned away slightly, holding her arm out to indicate that he should accompany her. "Please, Mr Cullen, let's go to my office so we can talk."

Edward sighed loudly, but didn't demur, following behind the woman up a short staircase, turning left on the landing and walking down a carpeted corridor until they stopped outside a wide, mahogany door. Mrs Banner grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open, standing back to let Edward walk past her into the room.

Inside was all polished dark wood floors and panelling, the main focus of the room being a large antique oak desk situated in front of a vast, unlit stone fireplace.

"Please, Mr Cullen," the Headmistress gestured towards the visitors' chairs in front of her desk, as she walked around the desk and lowered herself into the high-backed leather chair on the opposite side.

Edward sat, crossing his right leg over his left and resting his hands on his right knee, one on top of the other.

"First, let me thank you for taking time out of what I know is a very busy schedule to drive down—"

"Let's cut the bullshit, Mrs Banner," Edward interrupted. "You and I both know you gave me little choice in the matter. So, now you've got me here, I am all ears. What the hell has she done now?"

Mrs Banner sighed, holding Edward's eye for a moment before looking down at a manila file on her desk, the words "Isabella Swan" emblazoned across the top right-hand corner in bold black letters.

"Very well, Mr Cullen, I'll spare you the bullshit, as you so eloquently put it," she said, throwing him a rueful glance. "As you know, Isabella has previously been a model student, and I am well aware that her current behaviour is atypical—just a phase many seventeen year old girls go through. However, on this occasion, it simply isn't possible to overlook her wilful attitude and conduct—Isabella must be shown that there are consequences to her actions."

"What, precisely, do you mean, Mrs Banner?" She didn't miss the rather pointed way he glanced at his watch before looking back to her, one eyebrow cocked in enquiry.

Looking down at the file, she flipped it open, appearing to peruse the contents, although Edward was pretty certain she knew exactly what was written there. A minute passed in silence, followed by Mrs Banner suddenly slapping the file closed and looking up at Edward as she lowered her forearms to the desk, knitting her fingers and leaning forward slightly.

"Right. Here it is in a nutshell. Isabella has been discovered smoking on school property more than once, she is drunk most weekends, several times failing to return to her dorm at night, and yesterday she was caught smoking cannabis in the games storage facility."

As quickly as she had started speaking, she stopped, her eyes never leaving Edward's. For himself, he was still struggling to comprehend what he was being told.

"_What?"_ was his sorely inadequate response. His right hand shot up into his hair, tugging on it as he stared back at the Headmistress. She maintained eye contact, saying nothing, assuming his one-word outburst to be rhetorical.

Edward uncrossed his legs and stood up, looking over toward the window to his left. Closing his eyes for a moment, he once again assaulted his hair, before thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets and walking slowing over to the large casement.

Standing with his back to the Headmistress, he finally spoke.

"How could you let this happen? What the hell is going on here that a vulnerable seventeen year old girl is being given free rein to indulge every vice… ahh, shit!" He swung around to look at the woman behind the desk. "She's sleeping around as well, isn't she?" He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, tilting his head back to look up at the ornate ceiling.

"I honestly can't say whether Isabella is sexually active,"—at her words, Edward visibly blanched—"but it is, of course, entirely possible, not to say likely," she finished.

Edward's shoulders dropped and a look of defeat settled on his face. He returned to Mrs Banner's desk, dropping heavily back into the chair he had previously occupied.

"I've tried, Davina—may I call you Davina?" At her nod of acquiescence, he continued. "You know the history, of course. I imagine it's all in the file. I was never cut out to be a father-figure, but Isabella's late parents were very insistent that I was the only person they trusted to take care of her in the event of their death—but none of us ever believed it would be necessary, least of all me. If I had, I doubt I would have agreed to them making me her legal guardian.

"When they were killed, I didn't really think much about it—oh, of course, I was devastated at the loss of my best friends and well aware that Isabella would struggle to get over it—she was only thirteen, for God's sake." Again, Edward's hand raked through his chaotic hair. "But I really did think, being here, with the support system of friends and teachers, she'd be okay. She was okay, wasn't she… at first?"

"Indeed, Edward, we believed Isabella had coped well with her loss, but we remained vigilant, as we knew there could be difficulties ahead as she grew into adolescence. I know it seems to you that we have been negligent in our duty of care, but I don't think any of us could have predicted how Isabella would change over this last term."

"But how the fu—sorry… how the hell is she getting out and obtaining drink and drugs so easily?" Edward's words were laced with the frustration and anger he was trying hard to keep under control.

"Edward, this is not a prison, and neither is it a family home where individual care and attention can be given. Let's face it, even with two parents in place, it is often difficult, and sometimes impossible, to control teenagers. With no parent-figure at all in her life—"

"Hang on a minute. Are you saying this is my fault? Jesus, what the fu—what am I paying you for?" Edward's voice increased in volume as he struggled to keep from exploding.

"I really don't think this is about apportioning blame, Mr Cullen," _Oh, we're back to that shit, are we? _Edward thought, "but Isabella is, for all her intelligence and seeming self-possession, a lonely girl in desperate need of affection and guidance—which, with the best will in the world, is not our role here at Roedean. We will support her as much as possible, but we have a duty of care to _all_ the girls at the school and I cannot allow one student to disrupt school life or exert a negative influence on the student body."

Edward leaned forward, with his elbows on his thighs, his hands dry-washing his face. When he looked back up at Mrs Banner, his expression was bleak.

"So, what do you propose?" he asked quietly.

Davina Banner wasn't without sympathy for the man before her—apart from the fact that he was insanely attractive, she really did feel for him. A thirty-one year old millionaire workaholic and seemingly confirmed bachelor, trying to take care of a teenage girl to whom he was not biologically related was probably the last thing he ever wanted or felt capable of doing. Sadly, though, his difficulties were not her problem.

"What I propose—no, what I insist upon—is that you remove Isabella from school today—" as Edward started to protest she held her hand up to forestall him. "There's just four weeks left until the end of term and the Easter holidays and we can provide assignments for Isabella to complete which will count towards her coursework and her A-levels.

"You need to take her home and spend some time with her. For better or worse, Edward, you are her guardian and foster-father, and tough as that is, you made a promise to her parents and that means you owe Isabella some of your precious time and commitment. I know it's not easy and I know you are a very busy man, but somewhere down the line, this beautiful, clever girl is going to go very badly astray unless you are prepared to help her now, today." She paused, looking at him where he had now sat back in his chair. "The question is, do you care enough to be there for Isabella, or are you just going to wash your hands of her?"

Edward winced at her tone, dropping his head and looking at his clasped hands in his lap.

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy—it won't be—but if you can put some time and effort into showing that someone does love her and care about her future, I have no doubt she will get back on track and put all this nonsense behind her. Then, when she comes back after the holidays, she can start with a clean slate—and that's my promise to you." She leaned back, resting her left elbow on the arm of her chair and placing her chin on her upturned knuckles, regarding Edward steadily.

After a moment, Edward gave the woman a rueful smile which didn't reach his eyes, before launching himself out of the chair again and heading back to the window. Leaning both hands on either side of the casement he stared out, unseeing, at the rolling lawns and neat landscaping. Finally, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, he pushed himself away from the window and turned back to the Headmistress.

"Okay, I suppose you better wheel her in, then."

**~o0o~**

In an upper floor room, a slender brunette sat on her bed, knees pulled up and arms folded across them, on which she rested her cheek.

Bella Swan loved Roedean. She was a bright girl and had always excelled at school—learning came easy to her and the somewhat cloistered environment of boarding school suited her. Although not exactly ebullient, preferring to be more an observer than a partaker, nevertheless she had made good friends here and she couldn't deny that she enjoyed school.

Even after her parents' tragic death in a car crash in Italy, she found the routine and regimented life of a school boarder, together with the support of her teachers, her friends and their families, helped immeasurably during the months she spent grieving the loss of her much loved mother and father. The fact that her dad's best friend and business partner, Edward Cullen, was now her legal guardian, did not come as a surprise, as her parents had discussed with her in detail what would happen in the event of their premature demise.

Bella had known Edward half her life, and she had had a massive crush on him for just as long. As her grief subsided, she began to fantasise about how Edward would grow to love her, not just as his ward but as something much, much more. But as the time passed, she realised that in order to fall in love with her he would actually have to spend more than five minutes in her company once in a blue moon. Even when they did, on those rare occasions, occupy the same space, of late Edward was seldom more than politely solicitous, barely seeming to notice that the skinny, awkward girl he used to have so much time for was turning into a curvaceous and beautiful young woman. Nothing she did ever seemed to even capture his attention anymore, let alone stir his emotions.

Well, he was paying attention now—oh yes, now that she was finally starting to break out and have some fun—here he was, talking to Banjax in her office, as the two of them undoubtedly plotted to ruin her life. She knew he had arrived, because her friend Lauren had texted her with the news. Several of the girls had been looking out for him, knowing that Bella was in deep shit and that her hot guardian would have to be summoned. He didn't often come down to Sussex, but when he did—oh boy, the girls slapped on a little extra lip gloss and hitched their skirts ridiculously high, exchanging their Birkenstocks and Chucks for their Christian Louboutins and Jimmy Choos.

It had been her friends, Jessica and Lauren, who had finally convinced Bella that she needed to stop mooning over something she knew, in her heart, she could never have—the age difference alone being pretty much an insurmountable obstacle—and start looking for something which was attainable. Once unleashed, however, it was clear that Bella was not a woman of half-measures, and she very quickly surpassed her two friends in terms of bad behaviour; in short, Bella had very quickly morphed from a studious, well-behaved schoolgirl into a sexy, party-loving wild-child, drinking too much, experimenting with drugs and flirting outrageously with less than appropriate men.

And therein lay the crux of the matter which had so disturbed and appalled Edward, but in this one area his concerns were unfounded—despite years of pony club and cross-country riding putting a strain on her hymen, technically she remained a virgin—even as her increasingly out of control behaviour appeared to confirm the opposite.

Bella couldn't help but ruminate on what might have been, had her parents survived. She was pretty sure that she would have trodden another path, one much more in tune with her parents' and teachers' expectations. She wondered, also, whether she would have seen more, or less of Edward than she did now. It seemed unlikely it would have been less, because as her dad's business partner he had been a frequent visitor when she was a child, although being away at school much of the time and her parents being seasoned travellers, both for business and pleasure, meant that her interactions with Edward, such as they were, generally only occurred during school holidays.

Bella recalled, with startling clarity, the first time she had set eyes on Edward Cullen, when he had been invited to dinner by her parents. She had been eight years old and Edward was interning at her father's firm on some kind of student exchange scheme. The moment she saw him, standing in the living room talking to her dad, she had been enraptured. Tall and lean, with a shock of artfully gelled, glossy auburn hair, Bella had practically swooned when he turned to her with a wide smile—even at eight, Bella suspected she would never again experience a reaction so strong and all-consuming with any other man.

Fresh out of Harvard, Edward was a charming but cocky twenty-two year old American who thought he knew it all. But something about him drew in Charlie Swan and a father-son bond was forged between the self-made English millionaire businessman and the brash American trust-fund baby. And, despite his air of superiority, Edward found himself looking up to Charlie, admiring the tenacious spirit with which he had dragged himself out of his impoverished, single parent background of public housing and under-funded, inner-city schooling, to build a successful, multi-million pound publishing business.

At the time, the business focussed almost entirely on book publishing and the written word, but Charlie hadn't reversed his impecunious fortunes by being anything other than astute and tuned into market forces, and when Edward came to him with ideas about software and digital publishing, he had listened. Edward had an exceptionally bright mind, with a deeply intuitive grasp of future trends, and it very quickly became apparent that theirs was a partnership made in stock market heaven—with Edward's innovative ideas and Charlie's shrewd business mind, the profile and profits of Swan Publishing went from good to stratospheric. Edward made it possible for Swan Publishing to not only break the American market, but to firmly establish itself as a force to be reckoned with, with Edward on the ground, running the show, supported by both Charlie's friendship and his business acumen.

In Edward, Charlie found the son he'd never had, and the rightful heir to his empire. He also had a friend he trusted with his life—and, more importantly, the life of his precious daughter.

As for Edward, Charlie represented the father figure he had always felt was missing from his life. Carlisle Cullen had been very much an absent father who seldom involved himself in his son's life. He and Edward's mother, Elizabeth, had divorced when Edward was only four years old, and both his parents had quickly remarried, his mother to an Argentinian polo player with whom she lived in Buenos Aires, together with their two sons, and his father to brittle socialite, Esme Platt, with whom he had a daughter, Edward's half-sister, Alice. Edward had never felt loved or cherished, recognising that his parents' second families seemed to occupy what little space they had in their hearts. He rarely saw his father, hadn't seen his mother in almost ten years, and had never met his Argentinian half-brothers.

When Charlie and Renee Swan had crashed off a mountain pass in Italy four years earlier, even in her own grief Bella recognised the devastation felt by Edward at the loss of his surrogate parents. But at thirteen she desperately needed someone to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, even though she knew it wouldn't, and as her appointed guardian she had longed for Edward to fill that void. Sadly, Edward did what he had always done when faced with loss, whether physical or emotional—he threw up walls and donned his metaphorical armour to ensure his survival.

And now the man Bella had never truly been able to think of as either a father or a brother was sitting downstairs, discussing her future with the Headmistress. She knew exactly what they were talking about—the day before, Bella had snuck out to the games storage shed to meet Paul Embry. Embry was a local in The Red Lion pub in Roedean village and she had spent the previous evening flirting with him and getting pretty drunk. He had promised to get her some dope and when he texted her the following morning she had arranged to meet him. Paul had duly arrived, and they had shared a joint huddled up on a deflated jump mattress surrounded by all the school's athletics equipment.

Paul had not yet parted with the bag of grass he had for Bella, very much hoping that she would be willing to pay for it with something other than money. She had let him kiss her and had even allowed him to slide his hand up under her shirt, hoping to feel some kind of connection. She was unsure whether she was prepared to let him go much further, but at that point her dilemma became moot, as Miss Kendal, the games mistress, chose that moment to check on whether there was a spare tennis court net. Hilary Kendal was not the most worldly of women, but even she knew immediately that the cigarette between Bella's fingers had not been manufactured by Imperial Tobacco—had it been, Bella would have been in bad enough trouble, but the fact that she was here with a man, clearly being groped by said man, and using an illegal substance, meant that she was very likely going to be expelled.

As Bella was contemplating her immediate future, there was a sharp, single knock on the door before it swung open, revealing Lauren and Jessica.

"He's here, Bella—God, he looks hot," Lauren sighed, throwing herself down on the end of the bed.

Jessica scowled at her, then looked across at Bella. "Shit, Bella, are you okay? Do you think Banjax is going to expel you?" She moved across the room and plonked herself down on the desk chair, wheeling it closer to the bed.

Bella finally looked up, a pained expression marring her features. Knowing that she might break down and cry if she spoke, she merely shrugged her shoulders. Jessica gave her a sympathetic smile, understanding clear on her face.

A loud sigh from Lauren drew both the other girls' attention, and Bella had to chuckle, despite the seriousness of her situation.

"So, Laurie, did you see him—did he look mad?" Bella asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Lauren rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Nope, didn't see him, more's the pity. But judging from his reaction when you got canned for staying out all night last month, he's gonna be pretty hacked off, don'tcha think?" Lauren paused, and then her face brightened suddenly. "Hey, if he takes you home, can we come visit? You know, be your supportive best friends… ooh, ooh, we could volunteer to bring you assignments or something, and, you know, stay over?" she finished, looking over at Bella hopefully.

"Jeez, Laurie, give it a rest. Edward is not going to have some sort of epiphany and suddenly fall madly in love with you," Bella groaned, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"Who said anything about love, sweetie—I just want him to fuck me stupid."

"Well, that wouldn't take long," Jess deadpanned.

There was a moment of stunned silence in the room before all three girls, as if on cue, burst out laughing. Bella straightened one of her legs and gave Lauren a hard shove with her foot, causing her to roll off the bed onto the floor, the 'oomph' sound emanating from her causing Jessica and Bella to laugh even harder.

It was at this precise moment that the door swung open to reveal Mrs Cope, who had been sent to summon Bella to the Head's office.

"Well, Isabella, I'm sorry to note that you still do not appear to understand the seriousness of your situation. Jessica, Lauren, go to your rooms immediately. Isabella, your guardian is with Mrs Banner and she has asked for you to join them right away." She looked pointedly at Bella's friends, who glared at her for a moment then both turned as one to give Bella a hug and wish her good luck before trudging past Mrs Cope and out the door.

"Now, if you please, Isabella."

Bella swivelled her legs off the bed, and pulled on a pair of ballet flats. Standing up, she glanced in the full length mirror. As a Year 13 student she was no longer required to wear school uniform, although during classes students were required to dress smartly. However, the school day was now over and so she was dressed in skinny black jeans and a short, very tight, black t-shirt, the entire ensemble moulded to her womanly curves like a second skin. She doubted either the Headmistress or Edward would approve, but right now she couldn't care less. She thought about pulling her long, mahogany brown hair into a ponytail but decided she might need it to hide behind, so left it loose around her shoulders and down her back.

"Okay, Mrs C, let's get this dog and pony show on the road," Bella exclaimed, barrelling past her and out the room with a bravado she didn't really feel. She could hear the older woman's huff of disapproval behind her as she followed Bella down to the Head's office, trying in vain to keep up with Bella's brisk pace. Before she even reached the door, Bella turned to Mrs Cope. "I've got this, Mrs C, you can get back to whatever you were doing," and before Mrs Cope was able to object, Bella reached her destination, gave a sharp rap of her knuckles on the door and entered. _Like pulling off a Band-Aid_, she thought to herself, inwardly cringing.

"Hello, Edward, how nice to see you again," she exclaimed, a wide smile plastered across her face.

Bella immediately sensed that her bonhomie was not reciprocated.

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**END NOTES:** For those not familiar with the British school system, a school term is the same as a semester. A-Levels are the exams taken by 18 year olds, which are somewhat similar to SATs.

There's a Facebook group for my stories, with visuals and audio teasers - just type: **groups/417364658302809/** at the end of the FB URL.

Alternatively, if you would like to view all the visuals in full screen, slide show format, you can find them all on my story blog – link on my FFn profile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Huge thanks are due to my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, who has been a godsend, particularly when it comes to cutting down my tortously long sentences. Thanks also to Cared and MidNight Cougar, who have pimped my little story mercilessly on so many sites, resulting in a massive influx of story and author alerts into my Inbox.

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**CHAPTER TWO**

As the door of Mrs Banner's office flew open, Edward was assaulted with a myriad of sensations and emotions, paramount among them being shock. Shock at the metamorphosis of the quiet, studious schoolgirl he recalled, into this rather brash and, undoubtedly, beautiful young woman.

Edward was chagrined to realise that he had not seen his ward in over a year. He had been in Tahiti with his girlfriend, Tanya, at Christmas, while Bella had spent the holidays with Jessica and her family, to whom she was close. Before that, she had spent the summer vacation with the families of a couple of her friends—one of whom always looked at him as if she wanted to eat him, but whose name escaped him for the moment. Thinking back to Easter 2010, he had promised they would spend some time together in London, but then work had intruded and the whole thing fell apart when Tanya had turned up unexpectedly. Bella had excused herself, saying she had coursework to complete before going back to school, so he hadn't really seen it as an issue—just typical teenage behaviour.

All this meant that he hadn't seen her since Christmas 2009, when she was sixteen, and all he could recall was that Bella tended to spend all her time hiding in her room. The main memory he had was of being at Tanya's parents' home, where Bella was sulky and monosyllabic, barely speaking to anyone. So any communication between them since then had been pretty much confined to emails and the odd phone call. In his ignorance, Edward completely failed to recognise the synchronicity of those events and Bella's escalating defiance of convention.

Allied to his surprise at her attitude, though, was Edward's equal shock at Bella's altered physical appearance. He had always considered her to be a pretty enough girl, but his abiding memory of her was as a rather androgynous, gangly and awkward girl, the braces on her teeth robbing her of the bright smile that was so reminiscent of her beautiful mother. Replacing the child of his recollection was a stunning beauty with a body that would drive even the Pope to sin—certainly Edward had no defences prepared in the face of such wicked temptation and was astonished at the visceral and primitive reaction engendered in him at the sight of Bella's luscious curves, tightly encased in denim and cotton.

Edward's need to disguise both his mental and physical response to all the stimuli currently bombarding him meant that he, once again, abandoned his chair and strode over to the window, keeping his back to the room—and Bella—whilst surreptitiously fastening his suit jacket. He was utterly nonplussed by what was happening to him, and was barely cognisant of the fact that his current behaviour came across as annoyance and rejection.

As Edward turned around, he thought he saw a flash of something in Bella's eyes, but it was gone before he could identify it, to be replaced with all teenagers' stock-in-trade—studied indifference. She dropped into the chair he had so recently vacated, swinging one leg over the other in an exaggerated gesture, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing her gaze on Mrs Banner's desk, seemingly transfixed with something only she could see.

"Isabella, your foster father and I have been dis—" Mrs Banner started, before being interrupted by Bella.

"He's _not _my foster father, he's my guardian—there's a difference," she exclaimed forcefully. "_Are_ you going to expel me?" she demanded without preamble, finally looking up at the Headmistress.

"Do you think you deserve to be expelled, Isabella?" Mrs Banner asked, choosing to overlook Bella's rude interruption.

Bella stared at her for a moment, before making a soft huffing noise and returning her attention to the desktop.

She was startled by what sounded like a snort of derision coming from behind her, causing her to twist around in her chair to glare at Edward.

"Care to enlighten us, Isabella, as to what you consider to be a reasonable punishment for your recent appalling behaviour?" Edward's voice dripped with sarcasm, as he struggled to maintain his composure.

The response he received was a barely audible mutter from Bella, but it caused the Headmistress's eyes to narrow.

"What was that, Isabella? Come on, don't be shy," Edward pressed.

Bella leapt up from the chair, swinging around to meet Edward's eye, her face flushed with anger and frustration.

"I said—Fuck. You. Edward."

Mrs Banner shot up from her chair, her face aghast. "Isabella! I will not tolerate that kind of language, do you hear me? What has gotten into you?"

Bella ignored her, her eyes locked with Edward's, as he finally relinquished control of his temper. Clenching his fists at his side, he took a deep breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was unnaturally calm, and all the more terrifying for that.

"You have ten minutes to go to your room, pack a bag and get your sorry ass back down here and in the car. Do not, whatever you do, Isabella, try my patience any more than you already have."

Bella was mesmerised by the changing colour of Edward's eyes, as his pupils dilated and turned from a vibrant jade to a fathomless black.

"_NOW, ISABELLA!" _Edward's shouted command made Bella jump like he'd just cracked a whip, finally breaking the spell. Pushing herself away from the desk she'd been leaning on, Bella hurled herself across the room and threw open the door so furiously that it banged against the credenza positioned behind it, causing the photo frames positioned atop the unit to rattle and one of them to fall over with a loud clatter. But by this time, Bella had fled, unseeing, to the upper floor.

Once back in the relative calm and safety of her room, Bella pulled a case from under her bed and started grabbing clothes from her wardrobe and dresser drawers. She threw everything haphazardly into her case, adding books from her desk and the surrounding shelves, all the while fighting back the tears which threatened to spill down her face—because if she started crying, Bella was convinced she might never stop.

Twelve minutes after fleeing Mrs Banner's office, Bella wheeled her suitcase along the corridor and down the stairs, allowing the heavy bag to bump noisily from step to step of the short staircase. At the bottom, she barely paused and continued through the lobby, past Mrs Cope's goldfish-bowl office, and out through the double doors. She spotted Edward's car immediately, and strode towards it. Leaving her case and the small holdall she had slung over her shoulder sitting on the ground at the back of the car, she carried on around the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat. Once settled, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for Edward to join her.

She didn't have to wait long. She heard the boot click open and the car vibrate slightly as Edward roughly stowed her bags before climbing into the driver's seat, shutting the door a little harder than was necessary. Bella didn't acknowledge him, merely turning her head to look out her side window. She felt, rather than saw, Edward's eyes on her in the silence of the car. Then, with a sigh, Edward pressed the start button and the powerful car thrummed to life.

"Put your seatbelt on." Edward spoke quietly, but with an authority which brooked no argument.

As Bella complied, Edward reached over and turned on the iPod sitting in its docking station, filling the interior with Kings of Leon, and she realised that it was unlikely he would speak to her again before they reached London.

**~o0o~**

Exhausted by the stress of the day and her efforts to) stem her tears, Bella dozed off not long after the sleek car rocketed onto the M23, barely registering the movement of the vehicle as it hurtled towards the capital. The uncharacteristically warm spring sunshine was kept at bay by air-conditioning and solar-reflective glass, the soft purr of the V8 engine drowned out by Caleb Followill's rocking vocals.

Every now and then, Edward allowed his eyes to stray from the road to the sleeping girl beside him. She looked very young in this passive state and he was reminded that she was only seventeen—well, almost eighteen, in fact, as she would be celebrating her legal majority come September. Nevertheless, he told himself that his earlier inappropriate—and, frankly, ludicrous—reaction to her was merely borne out of the fact that he hadn't seen her in months and the physical changes which had transpired during that time had rendered her almost unrecognisable—practically a stranger.

Satisfied that he had resolved that particular dilemma, he reasoned that today's events merely underlined his failings with regard to his late friends' daughter, whose care he had been entrusted with, and he determined to try and fix whatever needed fixing, even if it meant stepping back from his work a little in order to devote more time to his personal responsibilities.

Edward's thoughts had occupied him for a large part of the journey and he was somewhat surprised when he realised they had left both the countryside and the suburbs behind. As Edward manoeuvred expertly through the London traffic heading towards his Knightsbridge home, he allowed himself a certain amount of smug triumph that he had given due consideration to all the issues, applied logic to the perceived problems and come up with what he believed were realistic and equitable solutions for everyone concerned.

The traffic finally started to dissipate a little, and Edward accelerated along Knightsbridge, then into Kensington Gore, before slowing as he passed the Albert Hall to take a left into Jay Mews. Swinging round in a shallow arc, Edward hit the garage opener on the dashboard, letting the car idle for a moment as he watched the door roll up, before slipping it into first gear and easing the car in next to a black Range Rover Sport. Killing the engine, Edward looked over at Bella just as she woke up. He watched, fascinated and utterly mesmerized as she raised her arms over her head and stretched her long legs out, for all the world like a sleek feline rousing itself from a delicious nap. As she pulled her arms back behind the headrest, he watched, spellbound, as a wide expanse of smooth, creamy skin revealed itself above the low-slung waistband of her jeans.

The spell was broken, however, when a glitter of green caught his eye, drawing his attention to her stomach.

"What the fuck is that?" he exclaimed, staring intently at her abdomen.

"Wha—" Still a little groggy, Bella first looked at Edward in confusion and then looked down her body to see what had him so riled up. It didn't take long for her to realise what it was. Even though she had now lowered her arms and pulled her legs back up, a sliver of skin was still evident, along with her belly-button ring set with a small, polished piece of deep green jade.

Edward's eyes scanned slowly up Bella's body until he reached her face, watching transfixed as her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of rose pink.

"Care to explain?" he enquired, arching an eyebrow, his voice deceptively quiet.

Bella frowned and looked away from him, staring out the windscreen at the back wall of the garage. "What does it bloody look like!" she snapped, releasing her seat belt and grabbing at the door handle, intent on removing herself from Edward's seemingly endless disapproval.

But before she could exit the car, his hand shot out and clamped down around her right wrist, effectively preventing her escape.

"Not so quick, young lady. I asked for an explanation and you're not leaving this car until you give me one." Edward spoke more harshly than he perhaps intended, as he tried to mask his initial reaction to this first skin-on-skin contact since Bella had been a child. _What the fuck was that?_

Bella's head whipped around to look at him, her surprise at his action plain on her face. She looked away from his face and down to where his long fingers were wrapped tightly around her wrist, utterly bemused at the odd sensation—like the static discharge one sometimes feels when touching metal.

Shaking her head slightly to rid herself of that odd notion, she raised her eyes back to Edward's. "It's a belly-button ring, okay? What the hell do you want me to say?"

"How did you get it, you're not supposed to be able to get tattoos or piercings if you're under 18!" Edward demanded.

Bella laughed. "Oh please, are you serious?" She stared at him, genuinely surprised at his naïveté in such matters. "If I want metal or ink, I'll get it—and if you don't think I can pass for at least eighteen, you're more stupid than I gave you credit for."

Edward bristled at her words, but then his eyebrows shot up as something suddenly occurred to him.

"You have a tattoo!" he gasped, more a statement than a question.

Bella, gazed at him for a moment, a small smile threatening to boil over into outright laughter. "Maybe."

Edward's eyes narrowed, his grip on her arm tightening. "Where?" he practically growled, his voice surprising him with its huskiness.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Bella smirked, revelling in Edward's obvious discomfort.

Pulling away from him, she finally managed to snatch her hand out of his loosening grip and exit the car. Walking round to the back, she waited for Edward to trigger the boot release, which he did after a few moments. As soon as it popped open, he was out of the car and grabbing her bags, even before she could gather up any of her belongings.

"I've got it," he mumbled, walking quickly away and leaving Bella to shut the boot before following him into the house through the connecting door.

**~o0o~**

Edward carried Bella's bags up the stairs to the first floor living area, a large open plan space, with stripped oak floor boarding to match the staircases and kitchen, which was divided from the main area by a breakfast bar clad in the same stripped oak, topped in black granite. In front of the kitchen was a glass and chrome dining table with white leather dining chairs, and on the opposite side near the staircase from the ground floor level were three large, black leather sofas surrounding a low, glass coffee table and facing a 50" plasma TV mounted on the wall.

On the side of the living area which looked out over the back of the Mews were floor to ceiling windows, with a set of double glass doors which Bella knew let out onto an open area of decking which caught what sun there was in the afternoons.

The overall impression was of stark, unadorned minimalism—it was chic and fashionable but, ultimately, cold and a little soulless.

Edward unceremoniously dumped the bags he was carrying beside the stairs and strode determinedly across the room towards the kitchen. Pulling open one side of the large refrigerator, he retrieved a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, turned to one of the eye-level cabinets to grab a glass and then carried both over to the granite breakfast bar. Putting the glass down, he unscrewed the bottle cap and poured himself a generous helping of the icy vodka. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a large mouthful of the spirit, grimacing slightly at the harsh taste as he watched Bella slowly make her way to the top of the stairs.

Edward took another deep pull on his drink and then put the glass down, keeping his eyes on Bella as she headed in his direction, stopping on the other side of the bar.

"Can I have one of those, please?" she said disingenuously, glancing at his drink and then back up at him, only to be met by a look of what could only be described as utter incredulity.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Edward barked.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what?' Jesus, Isabella." Edward stared at the girl in front of him, looking for all the world as though her request was perfectly reasonable and that she couldn't for the life of her understand his problem. He looked up at the ceiling, forcing himself to count slowly to ten in his head.

Finally collecting himself, Edward looked back down at Bella, slowly letting out through his nose the breath he'd been holding. As calmly as he could, he spoke. "No, Isabella, you cannot have one of these—or any other alcoholic drink—"

"Not even wine with dinner?" Bella interrupted, her voice climbing.

"No—"

"But that's so unfair—I'm nearly eighteen. You're being completely unreasonable," she huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

Edward stared at her. "Have you quite finished?" Bella shrugged, a belligerent expression on her face.

Edward sighed, putting his hands up to his face and rubbing his skin. "We really need to talk about what's going on with you, Isabella, but quite frankly, I'm exhausted. I've had a very long day, culminating in a 100-mile round-trip in the rush hour, and I've had it. I don't have the energy or the inclination to argue with you tonight, so you're just going to have to cool your heels until the morning."

"Now, have you eaten? Are you hungry? I can order something in, or maybe there's something in the fridge we can make sandwiches with." As he said this, he turned back to the fridge, pulling open the other side and staring at the contents. "There's some cold chick—"

"I'm not hungry, I'm going to bed," Bella announced, a somewhat truculent edge to her voice. Looking over his shoulder at her, he quirked an eyebrow.

"You should eat something," he said evenly.

"I told you, I don't want anything. Am I in the same room as before?"

Edward remained silent for a moment, straightening up and turning to face her fully. After a moment, he just nodded and walked out of the kitchen area, heading back towards the stairs. Without another word, he picked up her bags and returned across the room to another staircase leading up to the second floor where the bedrooms were located. After a moment, Bella followed him.

At the top of the stairs, Edward turned left and then pushed open the first door. A minute later, he re-emerged and headed back towards the stairs. As he passed Bella, he glanced over at her and paused.

"Goodnight, Isabella. I don't have to leave until ten 0'clock in the morning—I managed to put back the meeting I had scheduled for first thing. I'd like to see you downstairs for breakfast at 8 am, please." With that, he turned and disappeared downstairs, leaving Bella standing in the doorway to her room, staring at his retreating back.

**~o0o~**

**Friday 25 March 2011**

Neither Edward nor Bella enjoyed a restful night's sleep, preoccupied as they both were by the events of the day.

Bella's mind refused to give her peace, as she reflected on Edward's anger and aloofness. She so longed for his affection—for him to see her not as a child or his friends' daughter, to whom he had become a reluctant guardian, but as a woman who cared deeply for him. She wasn't a fool—she had examined her own motives at length, particularly as Edward became more and more distant, and knew that there was an element of youthful infatuation in play here. But she also knew that there was more to it than a mere childish crush because, if such was the case, she had no doubt it would have waned long ago in the face of Edward's emotional neglect.

Bella's parents had always instilled in her that although she was a beautiful child who would undoubtedly grow into a striking woman, her looks should not define her. They constantly reinforced the notion that as she grew older, potential friends—and, more specifically, men—would inevitably be attracted to her wealth and beauty, and that in order to recognise those with shallow values and avaricious intent, she must not only be able to look beyond the surface to the person underneath, but that she, herself, should work at being the best human being she could be. Thus, Bella had grown up with a well-defined sense of self and the importance of caring for and about others, regardless of their background which, in turn, had made her an astute judge of character. Young as she was, her upbringing, combined with the early loss of her parents, had lent her an air of maturity beyond her years, despite her best efforts in the last six months to adopt a wild and careless persona.

These characteristics—intelligence, beauty, wealth, kindness, loyalty—all went towards creating a young woman much admired by the opposite sex, something she had capitalised on during the last few months. She thought she needed men to find her attractive, although, in the end, she had discovered that there was only one man whose admiration and attention she craved. But instead of causing her to step back from her new and exciting—and increasingly dissolute—lifestyle, this revelation had made her more determined than ever to try and find someone—anyone—who could drive all thoughts of Edward from her mind. And if that couldn't be achieved, maybe he would finally take notice of her and drive all other men away in order to have her for himself.

This last, of course, seemed further away than ever, and as Bella wearily dragged herself from bed and into the shower the following morning, having slept so fitfully, she sincerely believed that nothing she did would ever make Edward look at her the way she wanted him to.

**~o0o~**

As Bella stood under the shower, Edward sat at the glass dining table with a mug of steaming hot, black coffee in front of him, ostensibly reading the Financial Times, although closer examination would reveal that he had been staring at the same article for the last 20 minutes without absorbing a single word. He, too, had endured a restless night, but for very different reasons.

Edward was confused and a little angry at himself, because his inability to sleep seemed to be as a direct result of his mind continually dwelling on the shock he had experienced that afternoon at how much Bella had changed over the last year—and it was not just the matter of her attitude which so beleaguered him. No matter how hard he tried—making himself think of the gap-toothed, gangly child—his traitorous mind conjured up the image of Bella stretching in his car, making him remember how his eyes travelled up her body, from that peek at her smooth, flat stomach, up to the ample swell of her breasts, accentuated by the criminal tightness of her t shirt, travelling on up the long, slender column of her neck, to the curve of her jaw, the defined perfection of her cheekbone and finally resting on her closed eyes, the long lashes fanning out over her soft, smooth, alabaster skin. This recollection inevitably led on to the conversation which followed about her piercing and the possibility that she had a tattoo—and then he was utterly incapable of forcing his mind away from what and where it might be, each thought more depraved than the last.

So much for resolving his dilemma!

Finally waking from an extraordinarily libidinous dream with morning wood unlike anything he had experienced since his teens, Edward had discovered that, much to his annoyance and embarrassment, the only way to relieve the tension was to… well, relieve the tension. Masturbating in the shower was definitely something he had happily lived without for many years, and his humiliation seemed complete when he realised that thoughts of Tanya, naked and prone on his bed, did little to help him get there; to his horror, it was only the unbidden image of Isabella, in place of Tanya, and thoughts of thrusting hard and deep into her glistening wet slit, that had him sliding his hand urgently up and down his rigid cock and swirling his thumb over the weeping head before he shot his load with unprecedented force, cum splashing against the tiled wall of the shower as he gasped loudly against the back of his hand as it splayed against the wall.

Appalled and ashamed, Edward had quickly finished up in the shower, making sure to direct the spray toward the evidence of his depravity, washing away all signs of his adolescent outpouring. In his bedroom, he pulled on underwear and socks, and donned dark charcoal suit trousers with a pale blue shirt and a dark grey and blue striped tie. He then pulled on his platinum Rolex, fastened his shirt sleeves with platinum cufflinks, gathered up his change and wallet, and left his bedroom to head downstairs, suit jacket slung over his arm.

Dropping his jacket over the back of one of the dining chairs, Edward continued on into the kitchen to fire up the coffee maker. He knew there wasn't much in the fridge so he helped himself to a bowl of Bran Flakes which he ate standing at the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew. Finishing his cereal, he rinsed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher, then poured himself a large mug of the strong, dark beverage. Depositing his drink on the table, he went downstairs and returned moments later with the Financial Times and Wall Street Journal, which had been shoved through his letterbox earlier.

Sitting at the table, he sipped his coffee but found it impossible to concentrate on the news. His mind kept returning to the previous day as he tried to make sense of the forces which seemed to have taken hold of him. Edward had always had a pretty significant sex drive, but he considered himself to be ultra-controlled. He believed that anticipation made the reality a great deal more pleasurable, and he was _always_ in control in the bedroom. With Tanya, for instance, like most—if not all—of his previous girlfriends, he invariably had her begging for it while he remained cool and somewhat detached. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it—far from it—or that he didn't care about his partner, but now that he thought about it, there was a certain element of that episode of "Friends" that he'd watched with another girlfriend, in which the dark-haired girl had drawn a map of the erogenous zones for the skinny guy, before giving him a rundown of the order in which to hit them…. a little 1, a 2, a 1-2-3, a 5, 4, 6, 4-7… yeah, well, maybe it wasn't quite that bad, but lately, with Tanya, he had felt like he was going through the motions a little.

It didn't help that things were a little tense at work—for the last six months, Edward had been keeping tabs on what was clearly the first forays of a potential hostile takeover bid. Between his shares and those which Isabella had inherited from her parents, over which he had control—at least until her eighteenth birthday—Edward currently had a controlling interest in the company. But everything would change when she came of age. Isabella owned 51 percent of Swan Publishing—a fact he was not sure she either understood or appreciated—with Edward in possession of 20 percent, making him the second largest shareholder, as well as CEO. However, if Isabella decided to sell any of her shares, or she married and was persuaded to give shares to her husband, then it was perfectly possible that an outside interest could buy up enough shares to take control—something Edward intended to fight at all costs. If she was going to sell her shares then it better be to him and no one else.

So Edward had been spending long days—and nights—not just running the company that Charlie had started with a Small Business loan, a one-room office and a driving ambition to succeed, but desperately trying to protect it from outside attack. He had people investigating who exactly was buying up shares, but whoever was doing it was hiding behind a so-far impenetrable wall of holding companies and off-shore accounts.

The result of all this was that Tanya, his girlfriend of some three years, was getting more needy and demanding, and he was well aware that she had set her sights on marriage—something Edward was somewhat ambivalent about. Certainly, his parents' marriage had been no recommendation, and, in truth, although he liked Tanya and very much enjoyed the physical side of their relationship, he honestly couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with her—or anyone else, come to that.

Now, as if all that wasn't enough, enter stage right the messed up fuckery that was Isabella. And of all his problems, she was the one Edward felt the least well-equipped to deal with. It wasn't just that she was behaving like the archetypal belligerent teenager, but should the unthinkable happen and she either allowed herself to get knocked up or, worse, get married—which she could do without his consent in little more than a few months—then there was a very real chance he could lose control of Swan Publishing—something he was not prepared to contemplate. He had put too much into it to lose it now because of the stupidity of his over-sexed but immature ward.

Edward knew that he would do whatever it took to protect his interests and, by extension, Isabella's.

Just as this thought crystalized in his mind, he was startled by the chair at the head of the table being scraped back. Snapping his head up, Edward took in the sight of his wayward foster-daughter as she plonked herself down on the chair, making a slight huffing noise as she crossed her arms in front of her and threw one long leg over the other.

This did nothing to aid Edward's wavering equilibrium.

Dressed in skin-tight three-quarter length black leggings which accentuated her long, shapely legs, she also wore what was clearly once an oversized t-shirt, from which she'd roughly hacked off the sleeves, the neck and all but sufficient material to allow the garment to cover her breasts, leaving a large swathe of creamy skin, to which the eye was constantly drawn because of the glinting jade belly button ring. The shirt's material was thin and fell off one shoulder, displaying her black satin and lace bra, and her arms crossed over her chest just pushed her breasts up and together, so that it appeared like she was practically thrusting them at him.

Edward forced his eyes up and away from Bella's breasts, taking in the long sweep of her exposed neck, her rich, dark brown hair swept up into a haphazardly coiled bun that appeared to be held in place by a couple of chopsticks which protruded from the top of her head like some kind of wooden antennae. Finally meeting her eyes, Edward noted that her face was utterly devoid of make-up, yet her skin glowed with an extraordinary luminosity which only served to highlight her large, molten chocolate eyes and naturally pouty lips.

Bella quirked a well-defined eyebrow at Edward's silently intense perusal, effectively breaking the spell under which he seemed to have been cast. She interpreted the frown which darkened his face as one of disapproval, believing that he found her wanting, both in terms of looks and physical attributes. After all, his long-term girlfriend was tall, blonde and willowy, with a marketing degree from Vassar,, a high-powered job with Saatchi & Saatchi and an impressive pair of expensively enhanced breasts. Fortunately—as far as Bella was concerned—Tanya spent most of her time in New York… but then, so did Edward, she mused sadly.

"Good morning, Isabella. Did you sleep well?" Edward's sudden breaking of the seemingly interminable silence made Bella jump, and at first she struggled to respond as her mouth first opened, as if to speak, then closed again.

Edward regarded her, his eyebrow arching and a sardonic smile flittering across his face. "Not the most difficult question I will ask you today, Isabella—your lack of coherency at this early stage does not bode well."

Bella glowered at him. "I slept fine, thanks," she snapped, jumping to her feet and marching into the kitchen. She snatched open the fridge door and glared at the contents, as if, by the sheer force of her ire, she could make them transmute into something which she could eat for breakfast.

"Your fridge is utter pooshanks," she exclaimed loudly, bending slightly as she pulled out the salad drawer, only to be met with some mouldering salad potatoes and a repulsively slimy cucumber. "Yuck."

Bella peered over her shoulder as she straightened, but was confused by the slightly glazed look on Edward's face, his eyes focussed in her direction but at a level somewhat south of her face.

"Edward?"

He shook his head slightly and looked up at her, frowning. "What?" His tone was a little terse and he instantly regretted it as he watched the expression on Bella's face morph from bemusement to… what? Hurt? Before he could analyse it further, it was gonereplaced, once more, by the generic irritated, long-suffering teenager look. It was an affectation, he knew, but he didn't really have time right now to either delve deeper or try to placate her.

"As I said last night, I haven't had a chance to get any food in, so there's just cereal."

Bella looked at him, saying nothing. He thought she might speak, but after a moment, she merely turned back to the counter, grabbed the cereal box he had left there and pulled open the overhead cupboard in front of her to grab a bowl. Once again, Edward had a fantastic view of Bella's perfect rear end, this time supplemented by an even greater abundance of flesh as she stretched to reach for a bowl.

Edward turned away, annoyed with himself… and with Bella.

Splashing milk onto her cereal, Bella returned the carton to the fridge and moved back to her seat at the table.

Eyes now glued to his newspaper, Edward spoke, his tone acerbic. "I trust you're going to dress in something a little more appropriate at some stage."

Bella paused in her chewing, a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth. Swallowing, she looked down at herself.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she enquired. "I mean, it's not like I'm going to be presented to the bloody Queen, is it?"

Edward sighed, but neither looked up from the paper nor spoke.

After a moment, Bella resumed her breakfast, regarding Edward with a pensive expression on her face.

As her spoon scraped up the remainder of her cereal, Edward finally put down his paper, swung around in his seat to face Bella and crossed his arms in front of him as he leaned back.

"We need to talk, Isabella." He paused to make sure she was paying attention. Deciding that she was, he continued.

"What are you doing, Isabella?"

Putting down her empty bowl, Bella mirrored his position. "I rather thought that was obvious," she said, "I'm having my breakfast." Her smirk was not reciprocated.

"Don't get smart with me, young lady, you know exactly what I mean. You've always been a straight-A student, well-behaved and conscientious. But now you seem hell-bent on pissing off everyone around you, whilst at the same time pissing all over your future. What gives?"

"Does something have to give, Edward? I'm a teenager—it's what teenagers do."

"Don't give me that shit, Isabella—this behaviour… it's not what _you_ do. You're gonna have to come up with someth—"

"And what would _you_ know about _me?_" Bella shouted, lurching forward in her chair and throwing her arms in the air. "You've never been around long enough to know me, so don't pretend you do!" She slumped back in her chair, turning her head away from him and squeezing her eyes shut. _I will not cry in front of him_, she thought, desperate not to show weakness.

Edward regarded her silently for a moment, his face an expressionless mask. He wanted to get up and walk away, he really did. _I'm not cut out for this shit, _he thought, _I'm out of my depth here._

"I'm sorry if that's your perception, Isabella—it's certainly never been my intention. I just…" His hand went automatically to his hair, tugging and gripping. "Christ, what do I know about bringing up a teenage girl? Huh?"

Bella continued to look away, her arms tightening around her torso, as if they were the only things holding her together—which it seemed to her might be the case.

"Isabella?"

Her next words were so quiet he wasn't even sure he was meant to hear.

"You don't even call me by my name," she whispered, barely able to control the tremble in her voice as she fought not to cry.

"What? What are you talking about?" Edward was utterly confused.

"My name is _Bella!_" she cried. "Only Banjax and… stuffed shirts and… and, fucking _strangers_ call me Isabella!"

At last, she looked at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, although it was her anger now which kept her from breaking down.

Edward was taken aback. This was not how he expected this conversation to go—although, in all honesty, he really didn't have a clue what would happen. He stared at her, trying to work out how to get back on track without sending her spiralling into a maelstrom of emotion.

"Isa—_Bella_, I…" he sighed and then leaned forward. "Look, can we start again? I'm sorry you feel so… neglected—" He held his hand up when it seemed she would interrupt. "Please, just let me say this." Again, he ran his hand through his hair, before propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his clasped hands. Taking a deep breath, he started speaking again, his tone soft and even.

"When Charlie and Renee died, I knew I had to honour my promise to them to take care of you and, please believe me, Is—_Bella , _I fully intended—_intend_—to do the best job I can. But I know I'm crap at this, and, in fairness, my overriding mission since Charlie died—well, even before that—was… _is_ to make Swan Publishing as successful and profitable as possible. And that takes up most of my time.

"So, I'm sorry if I haven't always seemed to be there for you, but what I do… the work that I put into the business… Charlie's and your business… well, ultimately, it's for you."

Edward was looking at Bella, but she was looking down at her feet. In an attempt to get her attention, he leaned further forward, dipping his head to one side to catch her eye.

"Hey," he said softly. "Do you get it… Bella? Do you get that I work all the hours God sends so that the company your dad built from nothing is something we can both be proud of, and can profit from? You own the controlling interest, Bella, and when you're eighteen you will have a say in how you exercise that control. You'll be a very wealthy woman, but it's a big responsibility for someone so young. It's why Charlie made me your guardian and why, even when you inherit, under the terms of his Will I'll retain a power of veto over any decisions you make in regard to the company—at least, until you're 25, or..."

"Or what?" Finally looking at him, Bella's brows knit together as Edward looked down at the floor, shaking his head.

"Nothing—well, just, you know, until you're 25, or you… marry. But, of course, we don't need to worry about that just yet, do we?"

Bella looked at him curiously, tilting her head to one side. "No, I guess not," she said slowly, turning away again so that Edward missed the speculative look that settled on her previously passive features.

* * *

**END NOTES:** Just to avoid confusion, in the UK when we talk about the storeys in a building, we say ground floor, first, second (whereas in America it would be first, second and third).

You can find visuals and other interesting stuff in my FB group - just insert /groups/417364658302809/ after the FB URL (I'm Liz McFluffy there).


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Huge thanks are due to my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, who knows the value of a comma! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and rec'd this story, I am still so stunned by the reaction it has garnered.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

"So, are we cool, Is—Bella?" Edward was standing, the look on his face making it clear that he sincerely hoped they were. "Can I assume that all this spoilt, rich-kid, attention-seeking behaviour is behind us now and you'll start buckling down and applying yourself?"

Bella continued to stare at her shoes, squeezing her eyes shut, as she listened to Edward. It was so obvious that he had had enough of this conversation and was now only thinking about how quickly he could extricate himself from the situation—and her presence—that if his words hadn't stung so sharply, Bella might almost have felt inclined to laugh at his discomfort.

"Bella? Are we okay?"

Hardening her resolve, Bella looked up as Edward towered over her. Biting her lip, she pulled in a deep breath through her nose, then finally met his gaze.

"Whatever," she intoned with a shrug, "I guess we're _cool_."

Edward narrowed his eyes for a moment, hoping she wasn't playing him, but finally decided that he really didn't have time to question her response and that he would just have to trust her… trust, after all, was what this was all about, wasn't it?

He smiled briefly and turned to pull his jacket from the back of the chair. As he slipped it on, his BlackBerry buzzed on the table and he picked it up, glancing at the screen. After a moment, he looked back at Bella, who was regarding him from her chair.

"That's Tyler, my driver; he's outside so I've got to run." He paused, a pensive look on his face. "Look, I know we still have things to discuss—not least, what you're going to do for the next couple of months—so why don't you come up to the office later—I'll clear my schedule and we can have lunch. What do you think?"

Bella cocked an eyebrow, clearly surprised at Edward's suggestion. _Is he really gonna make time for me… take me to _lunch!

As Edward glanced at his watch, Bella composed her features as she met his eyes.

"Well, I'll need to check my diary, but I'm sure I can clear a window," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What time?"

"Um, 12:30?" Edward looked at his watch again, frowning. "Listen, I'll try and call you later when I get to the office, but, uh, yeah, aim for 12:30, unless you hear otherwise."

And with that, he grabbed a tan leather briefcase from the table and turned once more to look at Bella, who still hadn't moved.

"Okay, I've got to run. Will you be okay?" He glanced around the room, then looked back to her.

"Um, what if I need to go out—I mean, other than coming to meet you—how do I get back in… uh, can I have a key?"

"Oh, shit!" Edward exclaimed, swinging his briefcase back onto the table, flicking the catches and delving inside. He brought out a key ring with a number of keys on it and started pulling off a separate ring holding two keys—one for the main lock and the other for the security dead-lock.

"Here, take mine—I've got another set in the office. Just make sure you engage both locks when you leave." He held out the keys to her, dropping them into the palm of her outstretched hand.

"Okay, I've really got to go. I'll talk to you later."

Bella watched as Edward strode purposefully across the room to the stairs leading down to street level. Just as he was about to descend, he paused and turned to look at her over the balustrade.

"Oh, and Bella, you will change into something more… appropriate, won't you?" he asked, although Bella suspected it was less of a question than a demand.

Rolling her eyes, she nodded, expelling a loud sigh. "Yes, Edward, don't worry, I'll change. God forbid I'd embarrass you," she said with heavy irony.

"Embarrassment I can deal with, Bella. What I won't tolerate is my entire male workforce sporting a collective hard-on and drooling all over my teenage ward." He arched a brow at her, before taking the stairs two at a time. She heard the door open and close downstairs, then the sound of a car door slamming. Walking slowly towards the window overlooking the Mews, Bella was just in time to see Edward's bronze-coloured Bentley Mulsanne glide silently up the Mews and disappear from view.

She stared at the last point she had seen the car for several minutes, Edward's final words ping-ponging around in her head. _He did not just say that I would give his employees erections… did he? Well, yes; yes, he did._ If Bella had been required to speak at this precise moment, she seriously doubted she would be able to articulate a single syllable of coherent speech.

Shaking her head, she finally moved away from the window and walked slowly back to the table, still somewhat preoccupied. Forcing herself to put those thoughts to one side, she picked up her empty cereal bowl and the two coffee mugs, carrying them into the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher. Glancing at her watch she noted it was 10:15, so she had about an hour before she needed to shower and change, and set off for central London. Bloomsbury, where SP's head office was located, was only about 20 minutes away, so Bella decided to pop out first to get some food in—she would head up to Gloucester Road, about a 10-minute walk away, and stock up on the essentials, plus some basic cooking ingredients, in order to make sure she didn't have to exist on takeaways. She hadn't spent enough time in Edward's company to know what he did on a day-to-day basis, so she wanted to make sure she had the wherewithal to knock up some simple meals, if required.

**~o0o~  
**

At 12:15, Bella emerged from Russell Square Tube station, right opposite Swan Publishing. Looking up at the building she imagined Edward sitting at his desk, doing… well, whatever it was CEOs did.

She crossed the road and stepped into the revolving doors, pushing the heavy glass leaf into the spacious reception area. It was a long time since she had been here—her parents had still been alive and she had been just a child. She had come up to town with her mother as a birthday treat, and they had stopped off at the office to meet her dad, who was taking them out to lunch. It had been a lovely day, shopping with her mum in the morning, then being introduced to various members of staff by her proud father, who insisted on telling everyone that his beautiful, clever daughter was 11 today and was due to attend one of England's most prestigious schools.

She smiled as the memory came flooding back to her. Edward had been there and had given her a kiss on the cheek before handing her a gift-wrapped package.

"_Open it, Bella." _He _had_ called her Bella in those days… when had he taken to using her full name?

_Grinning from ear to ear, a rosy glow spreading across her cheeks, she had ripped off the paper to reveal a red leather box with gold tooling, about eight inches long. She had looked up at him then, seeing the warm smile he gave her as she held the box in trembling hands. _

_Renee's soft voice came from behind her. "Well, open it, darling—we're dying of curiosity here," she chuckled._

_Her face ablaze, Bella looked back down at Edward's gift, snapping the box open. Inside was a very simple, but elegant white metal identity bracelet._

"_It's white gold, and I had your name engraved," Edward explained. "I hope you like it."_

_Bella stared at the delicate piece of jewellery, her name etched in fine script on the narrow cartouche, transfixed by how beautiful it was. _

"_Bella, sweetheart, what do you say?" Charlie asked softly beside her._

_She looked up at Edward, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you, Edward," she whispered, "I… I love it, thank you."_

_And then, to her unending embarrassment, the dam was breached and fat, hot tears rolled down her flaming cheeks. In fact, so hot was her face by this time that she was surprised the tears didn't sizzle and evaporate before they could drip off her chin._

"_Hey, come on now, no tears—I wouldn't have given you anything if I thought it would make you cry," Edward crooned, dropping to his knees and taking her face in his hands, gently wiping away the evidence of her foolishness before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Here, let me put it on for you," he said, taking the glittering chain from the box and wrapping it carefully around her thin right wrist. His fingers brushed her skin as he secured the clasp and Bella thought she might pass out at the sensation which seemed to cause her whole body to break out in goosebumps._

_It was at that moment Bella knew she was in love and that she would love Edward for the rest of her life._

"... miss, are you okay?" The voice of one of the three receptionists broke into Bella's reverie and she shook her head slightly to clear away the memory.

"Um, sorry, I… um… I'm meeting Edward… uh, Mr Cullen," she informed the receptionist. Bella wondered if she should recognise any of the women, but as it was nearly six years ago, she wasn't surprised that none were familiar.

"Okay. Would you fill in a visitor's card, please, and I'll call his PA to let her know you're here," she said, pushing a thin card towards Bella, with boxes for a name and company. She wrote 'Isabella Swan' and left the company name blank, passing the card back to the woman, and watching as her face changed from polite disinterest to outright surprise.

"Swan? You're Mr Swan's daughter?" The receptionist's surprise was palpable, and her loud exclamation drew the attention of the other two women, who both looked at her askance. The older of the three suddenly stood up and came round the desk.

"Bella? Oh, my dear, how wonderful to see you here. And look at you, all grown up and so beautiful, just like your mother."

Bella turned to the woman, trying to recall if she knew her. "I'm sorry, I—"

The woman laughed, but her face was kind. "I'm sure you don't remember me, Bella, you were just a little girl the last time I saw you—it was your birthday; you couldn't have been more than ten or eleven."

Bella gasped, as the memories she had just dredged up were given substance by this woman's words.

"I'm Harriet Sykes and I remember your father very well—such a wonderful man. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to speak to you at the funeral and tell you how sorry I was, but you were so young and in such a state of shock, and Edward was so protective of you, he didn't really want anyone to upset you more than you already were. Oh, it's so good to see you, and your parents would be so proud of you."

Bella was a little disconcerted to find herself enveloped in a warm embrace, as Harriet wrapped her arms around her. It had been a very long time since she had been held in this way, and at first she had no idea how to react. But the older woman's affection was so genuine and spontaneous that after the briefest hesitation she found herself reciprocating, as she was pulled tightly into Harriet's matronly bosom. She inhaled the clean scent of soap and revelled in the motherly embrace, feeling a lump come to her throat when she realised how much she had missed this feeling.

Finally pulling back, Bella took a deep breath to help suppress her rising emotions and smiled at Harriet. "Thank you," she whispered.

Touching her palm briefly to Bella's cheek, Harriet returned her smiled. "Now, let's get Edward for you, shall we?" She turned to the girl who had originally welcomed Bella. "Josey, have you phoned Kate?" she asked, all efficiency now.

The two younger women had sat through the last few moments, completely agog, and the one called Josey blinked in confusion for a moment. "Oh, uh, no, not yet."

Harriet narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Then please do it now. This young woman is going to be your boss one day, and you don't want to make a bad impression—do you?" she barked pointedly.

Bella blushed to her roots, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Oh lord, Harriet, I don't know about that. I haven't even thought that far ahead," she laughed nervously. "I still have to get into uni, and, well, gosh, I really don't know what I want to do."

"Nonsense, you'll walk into university, if you've got half the brains your father had," Harriet smiled at her.

Bella couldn't help but think that Harriet might well revise her opinion if she knew why she was here at all.

"Come on, let's sit over here while you wait. I want to hear all about what you're up to. How's school?"

Bella cringed internally, but managed to plaster a smile on her face. "Yeah, it's fine. Hard work, you know? But, yeah, it's great."

Bella desperately hoped that Harriet wouldn't enquire further and, as if in answer to her prayers, at that very moment she heard the 'ding' of the lift and looked up to see a tall, immaculately dressed blonde walk towards them, her expensive looking high heels clicking across the tiled floor.

Stopping in front of them, the blonde held out her hand, giving Bella a cool smile which never reached her eyes. "Hello, I'm Kate, Edward's assistant. And you must be Isabella."

Bella stood, glad that she, too, was wearing heels, as something about this woman made her anxious not to be dwarfed by her.

"Hi, Kate. Yes, I'm Isabella, but please, call me Bella." She took Kate's proffered hand and was treated to a perfunctory shake before it was withdrawn.

"Thank you, Harriet, I'll take it from here." Kate barely glanced at the older woman before turning back towards the lifts. "If you'd like to follow me, Isabella, I'll take you upstairs to Edward's office," she said, glancing over her shoulder without breaking stride.

Before following her, Bella turned back to Harriet, who had risen from her seat. She reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, Harriet. I'm sorry I didn't recognise you at first, but it was lovely to see you again. I hope we get a chance to chat some more—I'd love to hear about your memories of my dad; I meet so few people who knew him." She smiled, and then quickly leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the woman's cheek.

"Any time, Bella. It was a delight to see you. Please, just give me a call if you ever want to talk." She ran her hand up and down Bella's arm. Lowering her voice and turning slightly so she could whisper in Bella's ear, she said, "Now, you better not keep Miss Fancy Pants waiting, she's not known for her patience."

Bella chuckled softly and turned to head towards where Kate was waiting, the frown on her face and entire body language evidence of the truth of Harriet's statement. As she approached, the lift doors beside Kate opened and she stepped in, not waiting for Bella to catch up. As Bella slipped in through the closing doors she was treated to a look of barely disguised disdain.

"Edward is extremely busy, you know, and I would prefer not to keep him waiting."

Bella looked at her watch, which gave the time as 12:27.

"Well, Edward asked me to meet him here at 12:30 and so I'm actually three minutes early." She turned to look at Kate, who chose to ignore her.

Sighing, Bella looked back toward the lift doors and watched the numbers climb. The building only had 12 floors, but the lift seemed to move at a snail's pace as Bella inwardly cringed at the other woman's baffling hostility.

At last, the lift came to a halt and the doors opened on to a carpeted corridor, at the end of which was a pair of oak doors, towards which they walked. Bella remembered this—the office at the end had been her father's and she had a sudden vivid memory of walking along towards it, clutching her mother's hand, but wanting to pull away and run to her dad, who she knew was just on the other side of those doors. She gasped softly, her steps faltering a little as the unbidden memory overtook her. She couldn't have been more than six or seven years old and it was her earliest memory of being here.

Kate glanced over her shoulder, giving her a quizzical look, but said nothing as she continued towards what Bella assumed was now Edward's office. On reaching the doors, Kate barely paused as she opened the right hand side and passed through into the office. Following close behind, Bella noted two desks facing one another on either side of a second door, which Kate now tapped on before turning the knob and entering. Bella made to follow after her, but the door was pushed shut practically in her face. Bella was so shocked she just stood there looking at it. Clearly, Kate intended that she should wait here, which left her feeling angry and humiliated.

_Does that bloody woman know quite who I am? That in six months I could technically be Edward's boss and, by extension, hers? What a cow!_

Just then, the door behind her opened and a young, blonde woman walked in.

"Oh, hello. Does Kate know you're here?" she asked.

Bella turned to look at her. _What is it, with all the blondes Edward seems to surround himself with,_ she asked herself.

"Hi, I'm Bella Swan," she smiled, hoping that this one wouldn't be quite as stand-offish as Kate.

"Crikey, are you Mr Swan's daughter?" she responded, disingenuously.

Bella laughed. "Yep, that would be me. And you are?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Lynda, Kate's assistant," she said, holding her hand out, a genuine smile of welcome on her face.

Bella shook her hand. "So, you're Edward's assistant's assistant," she said, responding to the girl's smile with one of her own.

Lynda chuckled, "Yes, 'fraid so!"

Bella noted that Lynda could hardly have been much older than herself, and was relieved to discover that she seemed friendly and open.

She was about to speak again, when the inner door opened and Kate emerged, a slight smirk on her face which disappeared when she saw the two girls talking.

"Lynda, have you finished those contracts yet?" she asked sharply.

"Oh, uh, yeah, pretty much, I was just giving them a final check before I send them down to Legal," the girl replied, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Well, I suggest you get on with it, rather than gossiping like a schoolgirl."

Lynda gave Bella a chagrined look and turned towards her desk. "It was nice meeting you, Bella."

"You too, Lynda. I—"

"Isabella, as I mentioned, Edward is very busy today, so he's not going to have time for lunch. He can spare you a few minutes, but he's got to leave for a meeting shortly, so I'm afraid he's going to have to postpone." Again, Bella noticed a look of—what?—triumph? Why was she so nasty?

Before she could respond, the door flew open and Edward was standing there, his hair a complete riot, indicating that he had spent a considerable amount of time dragging his hands through it.

"What the hell are you doing standing out here, didn't Kate tell you to come in?" he barked, looking between the two women.

"No, Kate didn't," Bella said, looking pointedly at Edward's assistant.

"Jesus, Kate," Edward sighed, standing to one side to indicate that Bella should enter.

Bella tried hard not to quake under the intensity of Kate's murderous look and quickly side-stepped past Edward and into his office. Hearing the door shut loudly behind her, she glanced around to see Edward stride past her. However, instead of taking his seat behind the large cherrywood desk, he walked over to the other side of the room where there was a comfortable looking black leather sofa and two matching armchairs, spaced around a low coffee table which matched his desk. Dropping down onto the sofa, he reached over to a tall, brushed stainless steel jug and poured hot, dark coffee into one of the china cups also sitting there.

"Sit down, Bella… please." He glanced up at her, and held the jug up in silent enquiry.

Bella sighed and walked over to one of the armchairs, lowering herself so she was perched on the edge.

"No, thanks," she said, looking down at the table and refusing to meet his eyes, lest he see her disappointment.

Edward put the jug down and sat back on the sofa, taking a sip of his coffee. Returning the cup to its saucer on the table, he leaned forward again and clasped his hands in front of him, his forearms resting on his wide-spread knees.

"Did Kate explain—" he started.

"Oh yes, Kate explained, all right," Bella spat out. "What is her problem, anyway?"

Edward frowned in confusion. "What?"

"The snotty cow has looked at me like she had a bad smell under her nose since the minute she clapped eyes on me, and she could not _wait_ to tell me you're too busy to have lunch… what a bitch!"

"Bella, for God's sake!" Edward ran a hand through his hair for what must have been the hundredth time that morning. "Kate is an excellent PA and I'm certain you have misinterpreted and misunderstood her. Why on earth would you think such a thing?"

Bella looked away, refusing to get drawn into talking about that ghastly woman.

"So, you're too busy for lunch, eh?"

"Yes, look, about that. I'm really sor—"

"Well, that didn't last long, did it? Looks like that whole 'I promise to be there for you' spiel," Bella drew air quotes, "was just the same old bullshit, wasn't it, Edward?"

"Bella, please, it's not like that, but I'm right in the middle of a major deal and—"

Bella stood up. "Ooh, I'm sorry, Edward, but I think you have me confused with someone _who gives a shit!"_

"Bella—"

But she was already across the room and throwing the door open. Edward leapt up from the sofa and hurried after her, but was only in time to hear her say, "I'm off, he's all yours, Blondie!" before he heard the outer door slam. Lynda gasped but as he turned to look at her, she was turned away, rummaging in a drawer, a small splutter coming from her as she smothered her laughter.

"How _dare_ she! Who the hell does she think she is?" Kate shouted.

Edward focussed his attention on her and sighed wearily. "I imagine, Kate, that she thinks she's the owner of this company, which might entitle her to a little respect."

Kate blanched as Edward gave her a very pointed look before retreating back into his office. He considered going after Bella, but she would probably be out of the building and down the street before he could catch her and, in any case, it was probably best to let her cool down a bit. He would call her later and apologise again, and offer to take her out to dinner when he got home.

_Yes, that will probably work, and perhaps I'll send Lynda out to buy some chocolates or flowers, or something. Girls like that stuff._

With that thought, Edward pushed away his concerns and returned to his desk to gather up the papers he would need for his meeting.

**~o0o~  
**

Emerging from the lift on the ground floor, Bella took a deep breath and endeavoured to compose herself before she had to run the gauntlet of reception to get out of the building. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Harriet was not behind the desk, just the two younger women. She couldn't face her kind concern right now. _Head up, shoulders back_, she thought, her mother's advice about dealing with adversity filling her mind. She walked purposefully but calmly past reception, looking neither left nor right, and went straight to the revolving door, passing quickly through and onto the street. She glanced back quickly, wondering for a moment if Edward might have come after her but, of course, he had not.

She started walking down the street, crossing over and heading for Russell Square. It was a beautiful spring day, unseasonably warm for the time of year, and, as lunchtime approached, the garden was filling with office workers and students from nearby University College. However, it was just early enough that she managed to find space on a bench occupied by just one other person, and sat down, pulling her phone out of her bag. Scrolling through the numbers, she decided, on a whim, to call Jess. The phone rang just twice before it was answered.

"Hey, my little swamp duck, how the hell are you?" Jess drawled laconically down the phone.

"Hi, Jizz. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm off the leash and hanging around in town. What are the chances you and Lobbie can get here for a night of debauchery and mayhem?"

"Ooh, sounds like a perfectly spiffing idea—_Lobz!" _Bella pulled the phone away from her ear, grinning, as Jessica shouted out for her friend. She could hear her talking to Lauren and, even with the phone held away, she heard Lauren's squeal of delight.

She put the phone back to her ear. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Lobz wants to know if we can crash at your place."

"Of course. Why don't you guys get the six o'clock train to Victoria, I can meet you there and we can grab a bite to eat before we hit the bright lights."

"Aaannnd… we have a plan. Woohoo. Okay, dollface, we'll meet you by the barrier at Victoria at 7:30. Are you sure Edward won't mind us crashing?"

"Why would he mind? It's supposed to be my home too, I've got a key, and he can't stop me seeing my friends."

Jessica laughed. "I guess not. But aren't you supposed to be, like, grounded or something? He's not going to throw a complete wobbler if you go out on the razz, is he?"

Bella pulled a face. "I shouldn't think so, he doesn't really care what I do, he just had to put on a show in front of Banjax. Don't worry about it." Bella was pretty sure Edward wasn't going to like it one bit, but if he couldn't even be arsed to take her out for a simple bloody lunch, then fuck him, she wasn't going to sit around twiddling her thumbs pretending to be a good girl and getting bored out of her skull.

"Okay then, all systems are go," Jessica laughed. "See you later, B."

They said their goodbyes and Bella put her phone away, feeling better already, knowing she would be seeing her BFFs in a few hours and would be having fun tonight.

She decided to head to Kensington Market to find something to wear that evening, spending the next couple of hours browsing through vintage clothes, bargain designer labels from last season, cheap imports, plus shoes and accessories. If Edward wasn't going to buy her lunch, he could buy her something to wear, and she proceeded to thoroughly abuse her credit card. She ended up with so many bags that she had to get a cab the half mile or so home.

**~o0o~  
**

Back at the Mews house, Bella took a long, indulgent bath, removed every scrap of unnecessary hair, moisturised every inch of skin she could reach and then started checking through her purchases, trying to decide what to wear.

She finally settled on a colourful 1960s micro-mini dress with long, flared sleeves and a low, v-neckline, paired with knee high, shiny yellow PVC stiletto boots. She carefully made up her face with a smokey blue eyeshadow and heavy black eyeliner and mascara for an authentic 60s look, with a rich peach lipstick. She put on her blue Wonderbra and opted for the matching mini-briefs rather than a thong, as the dress barely covered her assets. Finally, she wound her hair up on top of her head, securing it with combs and pins, and stepped into the tiny dress; she pulled it up over her hips, slid her arms into the sleeves, zipped it up and smoothed it down. It really was very short. Pulling on the boots, she zipped them up and rummaged in the shopping bags to find the tiny yellow PVC shoulder bag she had bought to go with them.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she smiled as she twisted first one way, then the other. The weather was mild enough that she only needed a light jacket, so she slipped her phone, debit card and keys into the bag and left her bedroom to head downstairs.

In the living room she found a block of Post-it notes next to the phone. She scribbled a quick note to Edward, saying she was meeting Jessica and Lauren and would be home late, adding a PS that her friends would be staying the night. She then picked up her bag and went down to the front door, locking it behind her and walking up the Mews towards Kensington Gore where she knew she would have no problem hailing a cab.

Twenty minutes later, Edward's Bentley glided down the Mews and pulled up in front of the house. Emerging from the car, Edward struggled to hold onto the bunch of roses, his briefcase and the plastic bag containing an expensive box of chocolates he had sent Lynda out to purchase for him, as he endeavoured to unlock the door. Once inside the house, he ascended the stairs, calling out to Bella as he walked across the living room to the dining table, where he set down his briefcase, together with his peace offerings.

"Bella?" Edward frowned when there was still no response. He turned to go into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, which was when he spotted the yellow Post-it note stuck to the surface of the breakfast bar.

As he read Bella's note, his expression changed from confused to incredulous to outright fury.

"What the _fuck!_"

He pulled his Blackberry from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled up Bella's number. It started to ring and he took a deep breath in order to try and calm himself sufficiently so that he didn't lose it when she answered. But she didn't answer. After half a dozen rings, it cut out and went to voicemail. She had ignored him.

"_Hi, this is Bella, if you say something interesting after the tone, I'll call you back."_

"You are in so much fucking trouble, Isabella. Ring me back ASAP, or you are fucking _toast!_" Edward pressed 'End Call' and forced himself to put the phone down carefully on the counter so that he didn't thwart his own attempt to speak to Bella by hurling the damn thing at the wall.

Bella did not call back.

* * *

**END NOTES: **You should note that in English public schools (which are actually private fee-paying schools) nicknames are rife and practically compulsory. Just to clarify, Jessica is Jizz or Jizzy, Lauren is Lobz or Lobbie and Bella is Bellend – you may detect a theme here!

You can find visuals and other interesting stuff in my FB group - just insert /groups/417364658302809/ after the FB URL. If will find a glossary of some of the English expressions on my profile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; no copyright infringement intended.

I'm so thankful to MauiGirl60 for her help, and if there are any errors, they are mine, because I faffed about with this after she sent it back! Thanks also to Cared, who pimps me like a pro! The response to the last chapter was phenomenal, so thank you all for reading, reviewing and rec'ing.

**WARNING: **This chapter contains underage drinking—in other words, pretty typical British teenage behaviour! In fact, like most British teenagers, Bella and her friends drink way too much, and in case I forget to post a warning on every chapter, assume that Bella will be drinking more than she should.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Bella's ears were ringing and she could feel the thump of the drum & bass music vibrating in her chest as she moved to the thunderous beat. Trancelike, hands clasped high above her head, pulling her dress up to the point of indecency, her skin glowing under a sheen of sweat, Bella swayed in time to the pulsating rhythm, eyes closed, lips parted. Amongst the mass of humanity crowded into London's Ministry of Sound, Bella's hypnotically sensual dancing—along with flashes of her underwear—had not gone unnoticed, and a number of young men crowded around the three friends like vultures circling an abandoned new-born fawn, awaiting the moment when the girls would tip dangerously over into a state of intoxication which would render them easy game.

In fact, several men had inveigled their way into Bella's little group, imagining that their attempts to gradually dance closer and closer were both subtle and clever.

In truth, all three girls were feeling a buzz, having consumed a bottle of wine between them at dinner, followed by several cocktails before they had even arrived at the club, where they had shared a bottle of champagne upon first arriving. However, by this point, they had been dancing for a couple of hours and, driven by thirst, had subsequently drunk little more intoxicating than water; so, despite appearances, they were a good deal more aware of their surroundings than those around them might think.

The song morphed into another that none of the girls seemed to like so they all turned to leave the dance floor, deftly ignoring or avoiding the various hands and entreaties of the assembled males. Weaving through the crowd, they headed up to the VIP area, to which they had earlier gained entry courtesy of Lauren's cousin, Eric, who was one of the club's regular DJs. Upstairs, they found their table and dropped, exhausted, into the vacant seats, whereupon Bella grabbed her phone to check the time. Remembering that she had turned it off earlier when she saw the call from Edward, she decided to let sleeping dogs lie and slid the instrument back into her bag.

"What time is it?" she asked, interrupting Jessica and Lauren, who were discussing a particularly hot guy they had just spotted across the room.

Looking round, Lauren consulted her watch and gasped.

"Shit, it's gone half-past three. We should go, otherwise we haven't got a hope in hell of getting a cab."

Bella and Jessica nodded and they all quickly grabbed their bags and started across the room to the stairs.

"Hey, ladies, you're not leaving, are you?"

The three girls looked around to see the hot guy Jess and Lauren had just been ogling. He sauntered up to them, smiling widely as he let his eyes slide over each of them in turn.

Bella spoke up first, less entranced by his obvious perusal. "Um, no… we were just going to the loo—you know us ladies, always have to go together!" She gave a little giggle, looking up at him through her lashes. "Don't move, we'll be right back."

She turned to her friends, who were now looking at her as if she had just announced she was converting to Mormonism. "Come on, I'm busting," she exclaimed, surreptitiously prodding Lauren, who was standing closest to her, in the ribs.

"Ohh-kaay," she responded, giving Bella a quizzical look, but not arguing.

Bella led the way downstairs, and, firing a quick smile at the stranger, Lauren and Jess followed suit.

Joining the inevitable queue for the ladies', the two girls swung Bella round and gave her very pointed looks.

"What was that all about? Are we going back upstairs? I thought you wanted to get a cab," Jessica demanded.

"Whoa, who's calling dibs on the hot guy, anyway?" Lauren wanted to know.

Bella sighed. "Look, I just said that so he wouldn't start trying to talk us into staying. I just need to pee and go home before Edward decides to chain me to my bed."

"You should be so lucky, you dirty perv," giggled Lauren.

"Oh, harr-de-harr, you're so sharp, mind you don't cut yourself," Bella replied sardonically.

"Jeez, if I don't pee soon I'm gonna wish I'd worn incontinence pants," moaned Jessica, clamping her thighs together and wriggling her hips.

"Lord, after all the water I've drunk in the last couple of hours, I'd fill a pair of incontinence pants so full, when I sat down it'd be like sitting on my own mini water bed," Bella responded, mimicking Jess's desperate stance.

"Eww, that's gross. Better not come near me, then, cos if you cut yourself on my sharp wit, we'll all get washed away by your golden tsunami!" Lauren cried.

Several girls in front of and behind them gave them rather odd looks, causing the three girls to dissolve into fits of giggles.

"Oh, God… stop it… I'm gonna wet mah pants," Bella gasped, squirming as she tried to control her bladder through her laughter.

"Thank the Lord for a tight fanny, Bellend, or we'd be in need of welly boots right now," Jess giggled, setting them all off again.

At last, the line decreased and the friends were finally able to grab empty cubicles and save themselves from further embarrassment. Emerging from the bathroom, they headed straight for the exit and were relieved to find plenty of cabs, having got ahead of the rush that would appear at 4am.

From the club in Southwark, it only took about 15 minutes to get to Kensington and before they knew it, they were back at Edward's mews house.

Despite the fact that they had sobered up considerably since earlier in the evening, they were still a little tipsy; the great night they'd enjoyed together had left them with a happy buzz, which rendered them giggly and loud, as Bella struggled to unlock the front door amidst gales of laughter.

Suddenly, she felt herself falling as the door seemed to disappear, her downward trajectory only halted by a pair of muscular arms and a rock-hard chest. The laughter behind her cut off so fast she wondered if her friends had been atomised by the pair of moss green eyes which now glared down at her.

"Oops!" she exclaimed, unable to contain the snort of laughter which erupted from her nose, which again set off Jessica and Lauren, who giggled uncontrollably behind her. However, Edward's clenched jaw and furious scowl quickly caused the laughter to die in Bella's throat as she became aware that he was barely containing his wrath.

Behind her, she heard her friends shuffling nervously and realised that Edward still had his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. _God, he smells good._ She was aware that the errant thought was pretty inappropriate at this moment, and started to extricate herself from his grip. As if he was only now conscious of what he was doing, he suddenly dropped his arms, a slight look of confusion momentarily diluting the anger.

Moving back and opening the door wider, he indicated with a small jerk of his head that they should enter, and, somewhat sheepishly, the three girls ascended the stairs, following Bella as she tottered across the polished wooden floor. The clicking of their combined heels echoed loudly in the cavernous but quiet room and, as one, they started tip-toeing over to the sofas in the corner.

Behind them, Edward emerged at the top of the stairs, glancing quickly at where they had all collapsed onto the expensive leather furniture with exaggerated sighs.

"Don't make yourselves comfortable—and I'd appreciate it, ladies, if you did not walk on the wooden floors wearing stilettos," he barked.

Three tired faces, make-up smudged by the activities of the night, swivelled round to stare up at him, wide-eyed.

"Jessica, Lauren—I suggest you get yourselves a large glass of water each and go to bed. Upstairs, second door on the left, twin beds made up, bathroom opposite."

The three girls all stood up wearily, their buzz finally having worn off, leaving them all happy to just fall into bed. One after the other, they emerged from the sitting area.

"Shoes!" Edward yelled, his control starting to slip. "And you," he said, pointing at Bella, "sit the fuck down. I haven't finished with you yet."

Lauren and Jess gasped, looking round at Bella with horrified expressions on their faces.

"We'll stay—" Jessica started to say, but was cut off abruptly by Edward.

"You have 10 seconds to get upstairs or I _will_ be calling your parents and asking them to come pick you up first thing in the morning." He spoke evenly, but they could all hear the anger bubbling under the surface, and the two girls were aghast at his threat to wake their parents at four in the morning.

"It's okay, Jess, you go up, I'll be all right," Bella said quietly, looking at Edward, whose eyes had not left her since he came upstairs.

"But—"

"Ten… nine… times a-ticking, ladies," Edward intoned, his gaze still fixed on Bella.

"Okay, okay, we're going. But don't be too hard—"

"Eight…"

Quickly pulling off their shoes, the two girls finally started across the room, trotting to the kitchen to grab some water then heading up the stairs, pausing halfway up to give Bella one last look. Both she and Edward were still standing in place, eyes locked.

Neither of them noticed when Lauren and Jessica disappeared silently round the corner to their room.

After what seemed an interminable time, Bella dragged her eyes from Edward and turned to sit back down on one of the sofas, dropping her head back and closing her eyes, now overcome with exhaustion. Several minutes passed, but when she heard nothing, she opened her eyes and looked round at Edward, who was still standing in place. He was staring at her, his features impassive but his eyes practically burning a hole in her forehead.

"I don't know why you're so mad at us, Edward. We just went clubbing and now we're home," Bella said softly, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap.

Her words seemed to galvanise Edward into moving and he strode around the sofa, standing in front of Bella, just the coffee table between them, staring down at her. It didn't escape his attention that the dress she wore displayed a vast amount of thigh—and that it was likely a lot of hormonally charged men would have got more than an eyeful tonight. As if he needed more reasons to be angry with this infuriating girl.

"Mad, Isabella? You think I'm mad?" His voice was deceptively quiet, almost as if he was quizzing her about the weather. Assuming his question to be rhetorical, Bella remained silent, her gaze fixed on her lap.

"Oh, my dear child," he chuckled, but there was no humour in the sound. "No, no, I'm not mad, Isabella."

"I'm not a bloody child," she muttered under her breath as she stared at the floor.

Edward was looking down, his head slightly cocked to one side as if he was giving serious consideration to exactly which emotion he was feeling, and if he heard her he chose to ignore it.

"Oh, I am so far beyond mad, Isabella, you'd need to charter a fucking plane to get there," he growled.

He turned away from her then, throwing his arms up in the air as his control finally started to slip. "I am so fucking angry with you right now, I'm… Jesus_ Christ!"_ He started pacing in front of the coffee table. "After everything Mrs Banner said… after all the things we talked about this morning…" he glanced at his watch, "… or should I say, yesterday morning!" He stopped pacing and looked at her.

"What, in the name of holy _fuck_ were you _thinking?_ Huh? What is going on in that idiot brain of yours?" He stopped, his hands automatically raking through his hair and grabbing hold, his eyes a little wild as he regarded her.

Bella continued to look down at her hands, knowing whatever she said at this point was just going to irritate him further.

"Well? What have you got to say for yourself? You say you're not a child, but I see no evidence to support that statement. You were sent home from school as a punishment, Isabella. Do you understand what that means? Do you have any inkling _what—so—ever_?This is not supposed to be some kind of extended holiday. What it's _supposed_ to be is a period for you to reflect on your attitude and your behaviour, away from any bad influences. You're _supposed_ to buckle down and finish your coursework. You. Have. Been. _Suspended_, Isabella! _Suspended_, not sent on a fucking vacation.

"And what's the first thing you fucking do? You invite your fucking friends and go on a fucking alcoholic binge until all hours. Are you fucking _crazy_?" He stared at her, his fury a palpable, living entity.

Bella bit her lip and finally met his eyes. In truth, she was a little afraid of Edward at this precise moment, but there was no way she was going to let herself show it, reasoning that the best form of defence was a good offence.

"It's not the first thing I did—if you recall, the first thing I did was come up to SP to meet you for lunch," she snapped. "Yeah, that was a fun five minutes. I really enjoyed being sneered at by your snotty secretary and then basically told to run along and get out of your way."

"Oh, grow up, Isabella. I'm trying to run a fucking business here—your business, if you recall. I can't keep dropping everything just to run around after you. I made a commitment to your father to make a success of SP, and I will _not_ renege on that."

"You also made a commitment to take care of me, Edward… _me!_ Paying my bloody school fees and getting your fucking secretary to buy me a birthday card once a year does not qualify as care. You're supposed to take _care_ of me," Bella cried, as she leapt up from the sofa, the tears which had been threatening to escape for the last half hour finally spilling down her flushed cheeks.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Edward groaned, appalled at having to deal with a weepy teenage girl. He closed his eyes for a moment, realising that the gulf between them was a good deal wider than the coffee table. Sighing, he looked up at the ceiling and then back at Bella, who was standing across from him, staring at the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her as silent tears dripped off her chin.

"It's late, Isabella," he said, his voice low, hoping to calm her. "This is getting us nowhere. Just go to bed."

Without a word, Bella turned and walked towards the stairs. Behind her, Edward watched her go, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He had no idea where they went from here. He knew there was some substance to what she said, he just didn't know how to be what she wanted him to be.

"Isabella," he called out to her as she began to climb.

She stopped, but didn't turn around. "What?"

"Just so we're clear, you're grounded until further notice and your friends are out of here as soon as they're conscious."

"Whatever," she responded in a monotone, before continuing up the stairs and to her room.

Once inside, she threw herself on the bed, buried her face into a pillow and wept. She had never felt so alone or unloved in her entire life, not even when her parents died, because, at least then, she thought that she had Edward. Now she knew that she did not, and never would, have him. As her tears soaked into the pillowcase, her body wracked with sobs. She barely noticed her door open quietly, but felt the bed dip on either side and two pairs of arms wrapped around her, as Jessica and Lauren lay down and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

It wasn't the same, and it would never be enough, but right at that moment the comfort offered by her two friends was exactly what she wanted and needed. She was desperately grateful that, at least for what remained of this night, she wasn't alone and she was loved. Bella revelled in it, finding sleep at last.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday 26 March 2011**

Wide, golden stripes of sunlight slid inexorably across the room, finally settling on the trio of sleeping women, demanding attention and pulling them reluctantly to wakefulness. Bella was the first to feel the stab of bright light against her eyelids, causing her to blink and squint like a new-born rabbit on first opening its eyes to a bright, new world. Unlike said new-born, however, Bella's first instinct was to roll away from the torture of so much light piercing her gritty, sleep-laden eyes, only to come up against another warm body. Jessica—for it was she—grunted in a most unladylike manner and mimicked Bella, rolling away from the offending sun, only to discover that this action effectively meant that she had run out of bed, and her consequent plummet to the floor was spectacular in its sheer inelegance.

"Owwww—motherfucking hell's bells and fuckity bollocking _piss-shit!_"

Jessica's expletive-strewn tirade caused Bella to prop herself up on one elbow and peer curiously over the edge of her bed, where Jess lay in a heap. Legs akimbo, her dress was rucked up round her waist, hair stuck to her face on one side and standing up on the other. Adding to the overall effect, her make-up was smudged so comprehensively it looked like she'd come off worst in the mother of all cat-fights.

The two girls stared appraisingly at one another for a moment, before Bella finally spoke.

"You look like you've just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson," she said speculatively.

"Hmmph, well, your hair… looks like a piece of food," Jess responded indignantly, eyeing Bella's formerly resplendent bouffant, which did, indeed, now resemble an overcooked, slightly chewed chocolate meringue.

As they continued to survey the damage wrought on one another by the previous night's activities, a sudden explosive snore rang out behind Bella, followed swiftly by a long, drawn-out groan, as Lauren stirred into consciousness, apparently having woken herself up with the excessive violence and volume of her own snoring.

"Ohhhhh, fuuuuuck meeeeee," she croaked.

It was too much for Bella and Jess—with one look they both exploded with laughter, Bella rolling back on the bed and Jess collapsing flat out on the floor.

"Bella? Wha— Hey, where's Jess?"

At this Jessica suddenly stuck her head up beside the bed, causing Lauren to shriek in alarm. This, of course, just spurred her two friends into greater paroxysms of laughter, until both were holding their stomachs and gasping for breath.

Lauren gave them the stink-eye and rolled away, but this just placed her right back in the line of fire from the pernicious sun as it streamed in through the window.

"Ugh, someone make it stoooopppp," she whined, grabbing the pillow and pulling it over her head. She continued to mumble and moan, but it was impossible to understand her muffled words.

Bella reached over and grabbed the pillow, throwing it to the end of the bed. "What are you babbling about under there?" she asked the seemingly distraught Lauren.

"It's tooooo hoooootttttt," she cried.

"What's too hot?" Bella quizzed in confusion.

"Under the pillow—it's too hooootttt," was the nonsensical reply.

"You are such a pillock, Lobbie, honest to God," Bella huffed, sliding herself around her friend and off the bed.

"Takes one to know one, Bellend," Lauren retorted, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Ignoring her, Bella headed into her bathroom to pee.

"Ewww, you could at least shut the door, you minger," Lauren shouted, her face screwing up in disgust. "Jess, tell herrrrrrr," she whined, as Jessica finally pulled herself up from the floor and came round the bed to sit at Bella's dressing table.

Before she could respond to Lauren's entreaty, though, they were both surprised by a loud "Noooooo!" emanating from the bathroom. The two girls leapt up and rushed in, to find Bella leaning on the vanity unit, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

"What's wrong… what's happened?" Jessica gasped, concern lacing her words.

"Look at me… I'm a complete and utter wreck. Oh, holy scrotebags, please tell me I didn't look like this when we got home last night!" She turned away from the mirror, looking to her friends for confirmation.

As one, they intoned back to her, "You didn't look like that when we got home last night," before looking at one another and cracking up.

Bella frowned in irritation, turning back to her reflection. "Fuck off, mingers," she snapped, leaning closer to the mirror to examine the ravages of the previous night. Her make-up was completely smudged around her eyes, no doubt caused by both the copious perspiration engendered in the club and the massive crying jag she'd gone on after coming to bed—but that thought threatened to bring her right back down and she determinedly pushed it to the back of her mind. Most of her foundation had rubbed off, leaving her skin looking patchy and wan, and her lipstick had completely disappeared, leaving just a faint rim of lip liner surrounding cracked, dry lips. She imagined that, with the state Jess and Lauren were in, her bed linen was going to need changing, particularly as she realised she was still wearing her boots.

That thought made her look down and she jumped when she realised that her friends were still standing beside her and their eyes had followed hers down to her feet.

"Pigging hell, your feet are going to pong like a dead man's underpants," Lauren mused in her usual colourfully descriptive manner.

"Wanna find out?" Bella laughed, sitting down on the toilet seat and starting to unzip her left boot.

"Ugh, no, you are _such_ a wrong 'un," Jess shouted, pulling Lauren out of the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

Bella chuckled to herself as she pulled the boot off and then unzipped and removed the other one, followed by her socks. _Ewww, that _is_ a bit whiffy,_ she thought to herself, wrinkling her nose. Barefoot, she stood and moved back to the vanity unit, grabbing some make-up remover wipes and scrubbing at her face. Once clean, she slapped on a generous amount of moisturiser, rubbing it well in. She pulled the clips out of her hair, brushed it vigorously to get out all the tangles, before putting it back up in a high ponytail. She then stripped out of her clothes and washed herself quickly at the sink, drying off and applying some deodorant.

Satisfied that she was as fresh as she was going to get until she could make the time to have a proper shower, she wrapped a towel around her and stepped back into her bedroom.

"Hey, Bell, can we nick something to wear?" Jessica asked, although she appeared to have already grabbed some clothes from Bella's walk-in dressing room.

"Sure, sweetie, help yourself," she replied, as she rummaged through her dresser looking for underwear. She held out some plain cotton mini-briefs to the girls, who grabbed them before taking it in turns to use the bathroom. Bella pulled on a thong and a pair of stretch denim capris, together with a baggy white, v-neck t-shirt which she bunched up at the side and pulled into a knot, leaving a wide swathe of flesh above her capris.

Once they had all freshened up and changed into clean clothes, they all felt a little better and, fortunately, their fairly substantial intake of water towards the end of the night meant that their hangovers were within tolerable levels.

As ever, the three girls, who had been friends since they had all started at Roedean when they were eleven years old, seemed to move in total sync with one another, seemingly anticipating one another's thoughts and actions as they finished getting ready and sat down together on the bed. They had once joked that they were a Borg hive and that resistance was futile. With her two girls, one on either side, Bella felt safe and supported, but she knew they were going to have to leave and that she would be on her own with Edward—and she didn't anticipate that his anger would have cooled appreciably.

Jess and Lauren reached over and each took one of her hands in theirs.

"Hey, dollface, are you gonna be okay?" Jessica asked, her voice tender and full of concern.

Bella gave her a slightly wobbly smile and squeezed her hand.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'll be fine. I mean, what's the worst he can do?"

"Well, technically, I suppose the _worst_ he could do is stab you to death, hack up your body and bury you in the back garden," Lauren mused.

"Hmm, well, lucky for me there's no garden… well, except the one on the roof, and that's just not going to work as any kind of burial ground," Bella deadpanned.

Lauren grinned at her. "Okay then, looks like you're safe… just don't let him take you for any long country walks... and hide the knives."

They all chuckled, but there was an underlying sadness to it.

Jessica was the one who put it into words.

"He's grounding you for the hols, isn't he?" she asked quietly.

Bella's smile faded and she simply nodded.

"Will he let us visit at all, if we promise to be good and stay in, and not be a bad influence?" Lauren asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"I don't know, Laurie, maybe. I guess I'll have to be good and not piss him off, and then I suppose he might let me have a few girly nights. I mean, otherwise, it's gonna drive him doolally having me moping around the house the whole time."

"What about the bitch-troll from hell, whatshername, Tampax, or whatever? Is she going to be visiting?" Lauren asked.

Bella laughed. "You mean Tanya. I've no idea, but maybe if she keeps him happy with blowjobs and hours of tantric sex, he might be in a better mood and let me out once in a while."

The friends started laughing again, but they stopped abruptly when there was a loud rap at the door. They all looked at each other and then Bella got up and walked over to open it.

On the other side stood Edward, his hair in disarray and a light sprinkling of stubble covering his chiselled jaw. He was dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and a well-worn pair of faded 501s, and despite the obvious tiredness around his eyes, he looked so incredibly gorgeous, Bella decided she would be quite happy to be grounded if it meant seeing him like this every day… and night.

Edward looked down at Bella, his eyes widening slightly as he took in what she was wearing, and, more importantly, what she wasn't wearing, as Bella's body reacted to the desire she was feeling and it became pretty obvious that a bra did not form part of her outfit.

Edward was once again horrified at his own body's reaction to Bella's sartorial omission, as he felt his independently-minded cock twitch in his jeans, a fact that caused him to scowl in disapproval.

Bella sighed and walked away from the door to lean against the opposite wall, next to the bed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Edward walked slowly into the room and looked around as if he'd never been in there before. Finally, his gaze fell upon the two girls sitting on the bed, both looking at him curiously and a little apprehensively.

Edward regarded them for a moment before speaking.

"Ladies, perhaps you'd like to gather your things and make your way downstairs. There's coffee in the kitchen and bread if you want to make toast, or cereal, if you prefer. My driver is outside and as soon as you're ready he'll take you to Victoria to get your train. I'd like a quick word with Isabella, if you don't mind." And with that he looked away, effectively dismissing them, as his eyes locked on Bella's.

They looked at Bella, who simply gave them a small nod, and they both got up. Grabbing their clothes from the night before, which Bella had put in a carrier bag for them, they headed out the door and down to the kitchen.

Edward broke his gaze and looked around the room again, spotting a wicker chair in the corner; he walked over to it and sat down, swinging his left leg up so that his ankle was resting on his right knee. He steepled his fingers under his chin and looked at Bella.

"Sit, please," he said, his voice deceptively quiet.

Bella stared at him, but when he cocked one eyebrow at her, she relented and came around to sit on the other side of the bed to face him.

"We have much to discuss, Isabella, not the least of which are the events of last night, and the vexed question of what's going to happen over the next few days and, indeed, the next couple of months.

"But first, we are going to go downstairs, you are going to have breakfast with your friends and then say goodbye to them. Whether you see them again before the start of the new semester is entirely dependent upon your behaviour going forward."

Bella looked up but couldn't bring herself to speak.

"When Jessica and Lauren have gone, you and I are going to have a long talk, at the end of which I hope to have elicited certain promises and assurances from you. In return, I will give you some promises of my own. However, any deviation, on your part, from what we agree will, of course, render my own commitments null and void." He dropped his hands down to rest on the leg propped on his knee.

"And what if _you_ deviate from your promises? What then?" Bella demanded petulantly, affronted by the implication that it would be she who defaulted.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion, so let's get you fed and the girls on their way before we talk further." Edward stood up, clearly indicating that, as far as he was concerned, this current conversation was over. He walked over to the door and held it open, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Shall we?" he asked, holding his arm out as if to usher her through the door.

Bella slowly got up from the bed and walked past Edward, swivelling her hips to avoid touching him as she exited the bedroom and headed downstairs.

In the kitchen, Jess and Lauren were sitting at the breakfast bar, eating cereal.

"Cinnamon Grahams, yum—Edward has great taste in cereals," exclaimed Jessica, as he and Bella joined them.

"Ha, I bought those—Edward eats Bran Flakes, possibly the most boring cereal known to man," Bella responded with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Oh well, I suppose it keeps him regular," Lauren remarked, before gasping and slapping her hand over her mouth.

Bella and Jess chuckled, less at her remark than at her own horror that she had alluded to Edward's bowel activity in front of him.

"Indeed, Lauren. But Bran Flakes are far lower in salt and sugar and much better for you than that sugar-laden muck you're eating," Edward replied, frowning at the contents of the girls' bowls.

"Oh, puh-lease. It's just cereal, Edward, a yummy little treat to start the day with, not a fucking crack pipe," Bella retorted, her tone biting.

"Watch your language, Isabella… and your attitude," Edward snapped back icily.

Bella turned away with a huff and went to grab a bowl from the cupboard, treating Edward to a similar view to the one she'd given him the previous morning, with similar results.

"I'll be in my study. Don't take all day, Tyler's waiting outside in the car," he said tightly, turning away from everything which was currently annoying him… and driving him crazy. "Please come and find me when your friends have gone, Isabella. Jessica, Lauren, have a safe trip back to Sussex." And with that, he was gone.

"Holy hell, what crawled up his arse and fingered his prostate?" Lauren asked of no one in particular.

"Hmm, still fixated on the less attractive aspects of Edward's personality, eh, Lobbie?" Jessica said, looking askance at her friend.

"I was just saying," she huffed.

Bella returned to the other side of the counter, tipping some cereal into her bowl and adding milk. She wasn't particularly hungry, as her stomach was somewhat unsettled, not just by last night's alcohol consumption, but also by the prospect of what the day held when she was finally alone with Edward, but she knew she needed to eat.

For a few minutes they all ate in companionable silence, but eventually Jess and Lauren finished and turned to Bella, knowing they needed to leave before Edward came looking for her, which they suspected would only fan the flames of his ire.

"We better get going, Bell," Jess said softly.

Bella nodded, putting down her bowl and walking round the bar to join the two girls.

Opening her arms, Bella pulled them both into a tight embrace.

"You two, you're the best friends a girl could have. I love you so much, you know that, right?" Bella whispered, her voice cracking on the final word.

"Love you more," they responded together in what was obviously a well-practiced and oft repeated ritual.

"Not possible," Bella croaked, unable to hold back her tears.

"Hey, doll, you'll be fine, and he'll come round, I'm sure he will," Jess responded, close to tears as well.

"Offer him a blowjob, I'm sure that'll do the trick," Lauren suggested, sliding her arms round Bella's waist and kissing her cheek.

The three of them laughed, but it was strained, and finally Bella pulled away, not wanting to prolong the agony. She took a deep breath and forced a smile at her friends.

"Lord, you'd think we were never going to see each other again. Even if Edward decides to be a complete wanker and ground me right through Easter, I'll see you next term. Jizzy, Lobbie and Bellend, the Three Minge-keteers, _will_ ride again!"

She held her arm out straight, palm up, and Jess slapped hers down on Bella's, palm-to-palm, followed by Lauren's on top of their two.

"Peen for all and all for peen!" they yelled together, their laughter this time genuine and joyous.

With one more group hug, Bella walked her friends downstairs, pulling open the door to see Edward's Bentley parked right outside, with Tyler at the wheel. On seeing the girls emerge from the house he got out of the car and opened the rear passenger door.

They all hugged again and promised to email and call, and then Bella watched as the girls clambered into the back seat of the limousine, Lauren giving Tyler what she imagined was a sexy pout as she passed him to get in the car.

Tyler shut the door and, tipping his cap at Bella, turned and got in behind the wheel. He started the car and, moments later, Bella was waving madly at her friends as they made faces through the rear window and waved back.

She stood in the middle of the Mews until the car turned at the end and disappeared from sight, and then she took another deep breath and went back in the house.

When she got to the top of the stairs, Edward was standing behind the breakfast bar, with his hand stuck in the pack of Cinnamon Grahams, presumably going for what must have been at least his second handful, as Bella could clearly hear him munching on a mouthful of the sweet cereal.

"Oh, Edward, those are sooo unhealthy."

Bella smirked, as Edward's head shot up to find her looking at him, and she was gratified to see a slight reddening of his cheeks.

He narrowed his eyes, slowly pulling his hand out of the packet. He pulled a kitchen towel off the roll at the end of the counter, wiping his hands, before meticulously closing and re-sealing the box and carrying it over to the cupboard, putting it away. He then turned and looked at Bella, who was still standing at the top of the stairs, her hands crossed over her chest as she leaned against the balustrade.

"My study, now," was all he said before turning away and walking down the passage to the back of the house.

Bella sighed and pushed herself away from the stairs, walking slowly across the large room and following Edward to his study.

* * *

**END NOTES: **For the Americans amongst you, the use of the word "fanny" is in the English sense, rather than the American term "pussy" (not my favourite word, anyway). "Welly boots" or "Wellingtons" are more commonly known to you as "galoshes".

Minger (rhymes with ringer) is a common term of abuse in England, used to describe an ugly girl/woman, or a woman who's a bit rough and has seen better days, mutton dressed as lamb, etc. Girlfriends frequently use it amongst themselves, as a friendly term of abuse, and cries of "Fuck off, mingah" are heard all over London (particularly in my local pub, strangely!) Cinnamon Grahams is the British name for Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Minge (as in Minge-keteers) rhymes with 'hinge' and is common British slang for an English fanny (or American pussy!) Confusingly, this is not related to the word 'minger' (see above).

If you're on Facebook, why not come join my group, Fiction & Fluffery, for teasers, visuals and general chit chat – I'm Liz McFluffy there - after the FB URL, type: groups/417364658302809/


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

I am eternally grateful to my beta, MauiGirl60, for taking this on and being generally brilliant. Thanks are due also to Cared, who has pushed this story out there to so many poor, unsuspecting readers. And may I just say that your reviews are astonishing, and make me glow like Bella with Edward's hand up her skirt! If I haven't responded to you, I can only apologise, but I want you to know that I treasure every single lovely word you have sent me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Edward dropped heavily into the chair behind his desk, leaned forward to put his elbows on the polished surface, and buried his face in his hands.

When he had heard the girls leaving, he went to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee and spotted the packet of cereal, left open on the breakfast bar. He was about to seal it up when he decided to have a taste—_fuck, these are delicious!_ Dipping his hand in again, he was startled when he heard Bella speak—he had thought she would be much longer saying goodbye to her friends—and was mortified at being caught out.

Deciding to ignore her remark and his embarrassment, he merely demanded her immediate presence in his study and left the kitchen.

But now he found himself dreading the moment she presented herself and they had to actually start talking. Last night, when he'd been waiting for her to either call or return home, he'd had plenty of time to think about what he was going to say to her. As the time had crept on and night became morning, he found himself getting angrier and angrier, a sentiment which was not tempered in the least by a second emotion which threatened to surpass his growing rage—worry.

As the first inklings of dawn began to lighten the night sky, all kinds of dire scenarios started worming their way into his tired and overly-receptive mind—their cab being involved in a crash; drinks spiked with ruffies; being raped by an unlicensed cab driver; abduction by white slave traders and sold as sex slaves…

Edward was aware that his fears were growing ever more irrational, but the thought of anything bad happening to them… happening to _Bella_, was just intolerable, so when he heard the cab outside and the sound of the girls stumbling and giggling, his relief was acute. But then, as is the way of such things, his relief quickly turned to fury. It was four o'clock in the morning, they were clearly much the worse for drink—and possibly other intoxicants—thus having rendered themselves vulnerable to all kinds of human predators.

It was unfortunate that, as Edward felt his anger begin to escalate once again, Bella chose that moment to step into his study and plonk herself down in the chair on the other side of his desk.

Edward dragged his hands slowly down his face and dropped them to his desk. He regarded Bella silently, taking in her defensive position. Her arms were once again crossed over her chest, her expression sullen as she fixed her stare at something just over his left shoulder, and those long, long legs stretched out in front of her, Bambi-like, as she slouched in her chair.

He had to admit that, despite her inelegant pose and truculent demeanour, it was impossible to ignore her innate beauty and sensuality. With her rich, mahogany hair scraped back into a ponytail, her finely-sculpted cheekbones, nose and chin, set in a heart-shaped face, were all thrown into sharp relief; when you added in the most expressive pair of molten chocolate eyes he'd ever seen, it all combined to put him in mind of Mr Darcy's observation in Pride & Prejudice: _'I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.'_

"I might be wrong, but I was under the distinct impression that we were going to _talk_."

Edward was jarred from his musings at Bella's sardonic interjection and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Indeed, Isabella. Forgive my procrastination, but I'm struggling somewhat to know just where to start," Edward responded, a little more sharply than he intended.

Bella looked down at her feet, struggling hard not to show how much Edward's coldness hurt her. She drew a deep breath in through her nose and, gathering herself, looked up at him, a steely glint in her eyes, and leaned forward.

"Okay, let me save you the trouble. How about this. I say, sorry, Poppa Edward, I've been a bad, bad girl, I'll mend my ways, it won't happen again, gonna be a good girl, stay home, never go out again, swear off boys, keep my mouth shut, my head down and my legs closed, yada, yada, yada… cross my heart and hope to die." As she finished, she made a criss-crossing gesture over her heart with her right index finger.

Bella gave Edward a saccharine-sweet smile and sat back in her chair. She knew she'd pissed him off, but she was totally unprepared for what happened next.

Edward exploded out of his chair, which shot back and hit the wall behind him.

"_Goddammit, Isabella!"_ he roared, before stalking around the desk and stopping in front of her. He bent down and grabbed her by the tops of her arms, yanking her out of her chair so that she was just inches from him. He was absolutely furious that she could treat this situation with such flippancy, his anger rendering him momentarily inarticulate as he struggled to control himself.

Unfortunately, his situation was not in any way helped by the fact that Bella's sudden close proximity was doing rather extraordinary things to him. Her scent overwhelmed him, and he was also keenly aware that where his hands gripped her through the thin t-shirt he could feel a weird sort of tingling sensation, not dissimilar to a static electricity charge, but softer, longer lasting, which seemed to work its way from his hands, up his arms, into his chest and then… well, then it kind of bypassed the rest of his body and headed straight to his groin. At the same time, he couldn't help but notice that Bella's pupils had become dilated, her mouth falling slightly open and her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. As his eyes went from hers, to her mouth and thence to her chest, he could see her nipples standing up hard and proud, pushing against the thin material of her shirt.

For what seemed like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds, the two of them stood facing one another, unable to either go back or move forward. Edward held her so close, his grip on her arms causing her to have to stand on tiptoe. The thought flashed, unbidden, through his mind that he would only need to move infinitesimally in order to kiss her and that, with her mouth open like that, he'd be able to slide his tongue inside and really taste her.

As that very thought took root in his mind, his eyes widened and, just as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, he let her go—so suddenly, in fact, that she fell back into her chair, a soft gasp escaping her as she landed with a thump.

Edward stepped quickly away from her, walking over to the window which overlooked the back of the Mews. Running both hands through his hair he dragged in several lungfuls of air, confused and, if he was honest, terrified of what had just happened. Had he wanted to kiss her? Had _she_ wanted him to kiss her?

_Fuck, what is wrong with me? She's Charlie's daughter, little Bellybutton. I've known her since she was 8 years old. She's seventeen. Christ, she's going to be eighteen in a few months, a full-grown woman… a sexy, stunningly beautiful, full-grown woman. _

Edward turned to look at Bella, who was now sitting on the edge of her chair, hands clasped between her thighs, staring down at the floor.

_I'm 31, I'm her guardian—to all intents and purposes, I'm her foster-father. What the fuck am I thinking? If Charlie was alive, he would kill me if he knew what was going on in my head._

Edward took another long, drawn-out breath before speaking, keeping his voice as even and emotionless as he could.

"I'm sorry, Isabella, that was… inappropriate of me. I hope I didn't hurt you." He paused, waiting for Bella's response.

At first, he didn't think she would answer, or that she had even heard him, but after about a minute, she did speak, although she didn't look at him.

"I'm fine, Edward, forget it. I'm sorry I wound you up, okay?" she said in a quiet monotone, not wanting him to see how much he had affected her.

"Good. I… uh… I don't want to hurt you, Isabella, I honestly don't. I just want what's best for you, for you to be happy."

Bella did look at Edward now, a little surprised at how unsure he sounded. It was a side of him she couldn't ever remember seeing.

_You hurt me every day, Edward, don't you know that?_

"Yeah, sure, I know. Like I said, just forget it." She knew she would never be able to tell him how she truly felt, so why bother to even try.

Edward sighed and walked back behind his desk, pushing his chair into position and sitting down.

"Can we start again, Is… _Bella?_" Edward asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the desk. "We used to be good friends, you and I, and now we're at such odds with one another. I hate it. I hate that you seem to be hell bent on self-destruction. I hate that you seem to be losing your way. I hate that the sweet child I remember seems to be so full of anger and resentment.

"I'm not stupid, Bella, I know that teenagers rebel, that they constantly push against the boundaries set for them; God knows, I rebelled against my own parents, which is what brought me to England and to your dad. It was he who taught me to channel my resentment and discontent into making something of my life. He was more than a mentor, he was the father-figure I'd never had, but always wanted, and with his help and support, and, I like to think, his love, I believe I have been successful. Now it's my turn to repay, in some small part, the debt I owe him by offering you that same help and support."

Edward paused, cocking his head a little to one side to try and capture Bella's eyes, which were still fixed on the floor, wondering whether she was taking in what he was saying to her.

Bella couldn't look at him, fixated as she was by one thing: _He said he succeeded with daddy's help, support and _love…_ but he's only offering me two out of three. Oh God, he doesn't love me at all, not even as his ward, or daughter, or whatever the bloody hell he considers me to be._

"Bella? Are you listening to me?" Edward's voice pulled her back to the moment and she finally looked up at him.

_You're so beautiful, Edward. How could I ever have imagined that you would even notice me? I'm just a bloody nuisance to you, a tiresome obligation._

Bella dropped her gaze again, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I heard you, Edward," she whispered, struggling to control her trembling voice.

Edward watched her for a moment, trying to read what was going on in her mind, without success. Sighing in resignation, he continued where he left off.

"All I'm asking, Bella, is that you pull back from this whole 'wild-child' thing you seem to have going on. I'm not saying you can't have fun or see your friends, but I have to know that I can trust you to behave responsibly. This is the most important year of your school life and next semester will be the most important part of the year. Do you really want to fuck up your whole future just for the sake of having a good time? Because that's what will happen if you fail your exams and lose the chance of attending a good university—and you _will_ fail them if you carry on the way you've been doing of late. You have a good chance of getting into an Oxbridge college if you apply yourself. Don't you want to do well, Bella?"

Bella shrugged. "So what if I do fail my A-levels? I'm going to have plenty of money when I'm 18, and I've always got SP to fall back on." She met Edward's gaze, her tone nonchalant.

Frowning, Edward looked at Bella askance. "Are you honestly telling me that you don't care about university, or getting any kind of qualification? That you're just going to g0 down the little rich-girl road and think that because you have money you can do what you like, that you can just walk into running a multi-million pound business? Jesus, Bella, I gave you more credit than this. What the hell is wrong with you?" Edward ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting.

"Well, maybe I'll just sell my shares and go travelling—find myself a sexy Italian to marry and have lots of bambinos." Bella smirked, knowing that she was provoking him, but unable to stop herself now. He was just being such an arse and she wanted to prick his pomposity.

Edward stood, leaning forward with his hands on the desk. "Over my dead fucking body, Isabella!" he seethed.

Once again, Edward stalked around his desk and stood in front of her, but this time he kept his hands to himself—albeit clenched at his sides.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Isabella." Edward towered over her, his voice quietly menacing. "Don't push me, because you have no fucking idea what you're dealing with. I will not let you ruin everything I've worked for—everything _your father_ worked for—just in order to settle some childish vendetta."

Bella pushed her chair back and sidestepped around it to put distance between herself and Edward. She was beginning to feel as though she had a tiger by its tail, but somehow couldn't bring herself to let go.

"So, what? You're threatening me now? I can do what I like when I'm 18 and if I want to sell my shares or get married or… or… I don't know, give half of everything to my husband as a wedding present, then I will…" Bella's voice trailed off as she saw the positively murderous look which blossomed on Edward's face, his colour rising and his eyes turning so dark they looked almost black.

Edward moved towards her, his fists still clenched. As he did, Bella matched his movements but in reverse, until, coming up short against the wall, she was unable to go any further. For a moment, she thought about slipping away to one side, her eyes darting towards the door, but Edward anticipated her and, quick as lightning, brought his arms up and slammed his palms against the wall on either side of her head, his face just inches from hers.

Bella's breathing faltered and she found she could hardly draw enough oxygen into her lungs—as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She looked up at him and found she could not look away, his eyes holding hers like a cobra with its prey.

"What do you want from me, Bella?" Edward's voice was soft, a slightly husky undertone making it both lethally threatening and achingly sexy. He was so close to her he could smell every part of her and, inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes for a moment as he allowed her intoxicating scent to wash over and through him. When he opened them again, he was looking directly down into her wide, startled eyes, the chocolate of her irises almost disappearing as her pupils dilated.

"What do I have to do to stop you from fucking up both of our lives? I'm warning you, I will do pretty much anything to prevent that." He kept his tone soft, but now there was a slight edge of desperation to it.

Bella flattened herself against the wall, feeling her anger build—anger at Edward for wanting to control her life without any kind of emotional input on his part; anger at herself for being so affected by him and for letting her feelings about him affect her judgement; and anger at the world for forcing her to deal with all this on her own, without any kind of parental love or support.

At that moment, it all came crashing down around her and she couldn't contain it any longer.

"I don't bloody know, Edward," she yelled. "All you do is tell me what you want from me, all I hear is 'you must do this' and 'you can't do that.. Jesus, why don't _you_ marry me and then you can make sure all my choices are taken away from me… at least then you wouldn't have to worry anymore about me running off with a gold-digger… will that make you happy?"

She glared up at him, waiting for him to laugh in her face. The reaction she got was not quite what she expected, though.

Edward's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he just stared at her for a moment, before suddenly pushing himself away from the wall and spinning round. He walked slowly over to the chair Bella had most recently vacated and dropped down into it with a soft thud. He frowned and looked down at the floor, before slowly raising his head and looking at Bella where she still stood, transfixed against the opposite wall.

"_What?"_ Edward's voice broke like a pubescent boy's and he swallowed hard before attempting to speak again. "Are you… _what?"_

Edward found it impossible to form a coherent sentence, his mind spinning from one thought to another like some kind of crazy mental pinball game.

Bella just watched as a myriad of emotions flickered endlessly across Edward's handsome face. She had no idea why she had said what she did, and now she was regretting it just about as much as it was possible to regret anything. He seemed to be taking her completely thoughtless enquiry seriously, which opened up a whole new can of worms. She hadn't meant it, but now that it was out there, she knew that if he rejected her it would be the final dagger blow to her heart and she really didn't know if she would survive it. But she thought it might be even worse if he went along with it, because she had no doubt that, should he accede to her, frankly ludicrous, suggestion, she would marry him in a heartbeat; unfortunately, she also knew that that meant she would be marrying a man who didn't love her—in fact, she wasn't sure if he even _liked_ her. What possible good could come of such an arrangement?

Edward was looking around the room, as though the answer to his dilemma could be found amongst the many books lining the walls, although what little rational thought he could muster at this precise moment would tell him that no such enlightenment was likely to be forthcoming. As his mind raced, his eyes finally settled back on the girl he had come to think of as his nemesis. When his eyes met hers, he frowned, desperately trying to work out what the hell she was thinking. She was a little flushed and her eyes were wide, but he really didn't know whether that was because she meant what she said or whether she was simply trying to rattle his cage.

Well, if it was the latter, she had certainly succeeded. He was dumbfounded. What if he said yes, what would she do then? Would she follow through? How far was she prepared to take it? He shook his head. This was madness… of course she didn't mean it.

But deep in the back of his mind, a little voice was fighting to make itself heard. W_hat if she means it, what if that's what she wants? Would it be such a bad idea? It would certainly solve a whole raft of problems in one fell swoop. It would put a stop to her flaunting herself at every man she came into contact with; it would put an end to any possibility of her running off and marrying some random gold-digger; it would make it easier to control her shares._

_And—_the insidious little voice went on—_it would keep Tanya at arm's length, at least in the short-term, because any such arrangement would need to have a finite life-span._

Because if he did marry Bella, it would only need to be for a year or two… well, maybe a little longer, just until she had grown up a bit, settled into university, and got over all this wilful petulance. Then they could just get a civilised divorce, he could go his way and she could go hers, without anyone being hurt.

_Could it work?_

_Fuck, no! What the hell am I thinking? This is sheer lunacy—that way madness lies!_

_But if I could make it work, if I could somehow bring her to heel—even if I couldn't, at least she would still be unable to marry anyone else._

From across the room, Bella watched him, unable to move or drag her eyes from where he sat, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. _Oh my God, he's actually thinking about it, he's… considering it?_ She had no idea how to deal with that possibility. Despite her concerns about him agreeing to her foolish idea, she never really contemplated that he would. Now, as she continued to watch him, she started to panic. He was all she'd ever wanted, but not like this, not as some kind of marriage of convenience.

Her panic increased as Edward chose that moment to look straight at her, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He stood, then, and walked slowly back over to where she was still pressing herself against the wall, a deer caught in Edward's dazzling headlights. Resuming his pose in front of her, hands against the wall on either side of her head, he smiled down at her, although Bella could identify neither amusement nor affection—but whatever that smile was meant to convey, the effect on her was startling as her skin erupted in goosebumps, her nipples hardened and she felt a gush of warm wetness between her legs.

"Well, Bella, you've presented me with quite a conundrum, haven't you?" His voice, like warm honey, ignited every nerve-ending in her body, the air around them seeming to crackle with static electricity.

Bella felt quite incapable of speech as she fought to keep her knees locked so that her legs didn't collapse from under her.

"Cat got your tongue?" Edward purred softly, his eyes flickering to Bella's parted lips, which appeared to him to be more pink and pouty than ever.

As if on cue, Bella's teeth found her lower lip and pulled on it, causing Edward to bite back the small moan which threatened to escape.

"What to do, what to do," he murmured, apparently to himself, his eyes still fixed on the lip which was now so violently under attack from its owner.

Removing his right hand from the wall he brought his thumb to that very lip, rubbing it lightly until she released it, her breath now coming in shallow gasps as Edward's thumb stilled against her mouth.

Slowly dragging his eyes back to hers, he regarded her for a long moment, before speaking again.

"You know, Bella—"

_BRRRRRRRRH… BRRRRRRRH_…

The sound of Edward's phone simultaneously ringing and vibrating on his desk grabbed their attention and they both turned their heads towards the sudden loud noise.

_BRRRRRRRRH… BRRRRRRRH_…

* * *

**END NOTES:**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Hugs and squidges to my beta, MauiGirl60, for her stellar editing skills and endless support. If there are errors, they are mine, because I'm a hopelessly compulsive tweaker. Thanks are due also to Cared, who continues to pimp this story all over the net. And a massive thanks to all of you, dear readers; your generous and lovely words make me feel like I've won the lottery. Now, if I could just find a way to turn reviews into cash…

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

_BRRRRRRRRH… BRRRRRRRH_…

Bella didn't know whether to laugh or cry as the spell was broken. With one last speculative glance at her, without a word, Edward pulled away and walked to his desk, picking up his phone and checking the display before sliding his thumb over the screen and putting the instrument to his ear.

"Tanya, darling, how are you?" Edward said, his voice full of bonhomie, although his eyes never left Bella, who rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance when she realised who was calling. "You're up early, sweetheart, what gives?"

Whatever the response was, it made Edward frown and he looked down at his desk and then at his watch.

"Jesus, Tanya, why didn't you let me know earlier, I've kind of got a bit of a situation here… what?... Oh… I see… No, no, it's fine, just get a cab and I'll see you in a bit. Hmm? Yeah… me too… see you soon."

Edward pressed End Call and stood staring at the phone for a moment.

"I do _not_ fucking believe it!" Bella barked from across the room, drawing Edward's attention.

"What?" he enquired, somewhat distractedly.

"The bitch-troll from hell is on her way _here_? _Now?_ Christ, does that woman ever bother to find out if it's convenient to just turn up?" she demanded.

Edward scowled at her. "I would appreciate it if you did not call my girlfriend childish names—and, as she_ is_ my girlfriend, she doesn't have to ask my permission to visit, so back off and stop being such a brat."

Bella stared at him, for a moment wondering if the last ten minutes had actually happened, or whether she'd dozed off and dreamt the whole thing.

"Fine, I'll just keep out of your way, so you can do your thing and I can do mine," she retorted, before turning on her heel and marching to the door.

"Bella—"

"Don't worry, Edward, I'm going to my room to immerse myself in early 20th century history, not planning to run off in search of a crack dealer."

With that, she threw open the door and practically ran from the room, leaving Edward staring at the now-empty doorway, wondering what the hell just happened in this room.

**~o0o~**

Bella decided to take a shower. As the day was again turning remarkably warm, she redressed herself in a soft, blue halter-neck top which clung to her curves, and a pair of miniscule cut-off denim shorts which, when she bent over, left a sizeable area of her bottom exposed to unsuspecting eyes.

An hour or so later, she lay on her stomach across her bed, staring at the pages of the weighty tome in front of her. Try as she might, she just couldn't concentrate on the socio-political fall-out from the annexation of Bosnia-Herzogovina and the subsequent assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, which had led to the outbreak of the First World War.

Tanya had arrived from her breakfast meeting a short while ago, amidst shrieks of 'dahling' and 'sweetie.' Bella just knew that brittle piece of dental floss, along with her disproportionately large plastic tits, would be all over Edward like a cheap suit. Now she could hear nothing and assumed Edward had taken her to study for the very reason that he did not want Bella to overhear them. She was just glad they hadn't gone to his bedroom, because Tanya was a screamer, and having to listen to that would definitely drive Bella out onto the street. She had immediately plugged her earbuds in and turned up her iPod, just in case.

At that moment, her stomach decided to make its presence known and she wondered if it was safe to venture out to the kitchen. She was pretty sure it was the one place she would never find Tanya, who would undoubtedly blanch at the thought of getting food either splashed on her couture clothes or wedged under her glossy acrylic talons. With that thought in mind, she scootched off the bed and went to the door, opening it quietly. Pulling out her earbuds, she listened for a moment, before slipping out the door and padding barefoot down the stairs.

On reaching the first floor, she went straight into the kitchen and started busying herself with the preparation of a simple cheese and ham omelette. With her iPod belting out her dance playlist, Bella gyrated around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients from the fridge, and set about chopping and mixing them together. As she pulled a skillet from one of the lower cabinets she suddenly became aware of a prickling sensation on her skin and knew that Edward was behind her.

She swung around, pan in hand, to see him leaning against the counter, arms crossed, regarding her with an odd, almost pained expression on his face.

"Crikey, you made me jump," Bella gasped, clasping her free hand to her chest.

Cocking an eyebrow at her, Edward continued to look at her, his eyes travelling down from her face to her chest, which was barely covered by her top, thence to her exposed midriff—which now sported a blue-stoned piercing—and on down to the tiny pair of shorts. From there, he let his gaze slide down Bella's seemingly endless legs, until it reached her bare feet. Unable to stop himself, he then dragged his eyes slowly back up until they met hers.

Edward frowned. He wanted to ask her if she was being deliberately provocative; if she was trying to give him a heart attack, or perhaps, more accurately, cause his death by means of a total lack of blood to the brain, due to it having taken up permanent residence in one specific area of his body which was nowhere near his head… at least, not the head on his shoulders.

He had left Tanya in his study, where she had dozed off on the couch—flying the red-eye was apt to do that to you—and had decided to grab a Coke from the fridge, only to be confronted by the sight of Bella's phenomenally pert ass wiggling around the kitchen. She hadn't yet noticed him as he made his way round the breakfast bar. Just as she bent to extract a pan from one of the cabinets, she gave him an eyeful of her practically naked back and sinfully exposed curves.

Edward was eternally grateful for the fact that he had chosen to put on a long, loose t-shirt this morning, as he surreptitiously adjusted himself, before crossing his arms in order to stop himself from grabbing Bella by the hips and grinding his uncomfortably hard cock against her delectable ass cheeks. He groaned softly, unable to stop the sound escaping, and was barely able to compose himself as Bella swung round to face him, pressing her hand between her high, firm breasts.

Internally, Edward chastised himself—had what happened earlier in the study removed every belief and principle he'd ever held with regard to Bella? Certainly, it seemed as though, in just a few hours, all bets were off and his body was now in free-fall when it came to her.

Christ, he didn't need this. And, if he was honest, he could do without Tanya turning up out of the blue, explaining that a meeting in London had come up at the last minute. She told him she hadn't wanted to ring him so late the night before, reasoning that even if he wasn't around she could let herself into the house and camp out there for a couple of days. It was a perfectly logical and reasonable thing for her to do, but, again, her timing could not have been worse.

And now, with Tanya in the study and Bella in the kitchen, he definitely felt like a man caught between a rock and a hard place—both outside and inside his jeans.

He let his attention fall back on the beautiful, inordinately sexy brunette in front of him, who was now regarding him with bemusement.

"Are you okay, Edward?" she enquired, giving him a puzzled look.

"I'm fine, Bella. I was just going to grab a Coke," he replied, pushing himself away from the counter and heading to the fridge.

Bella watched him as he walked past her, still feeling the effects of his heated perusal just a minute or two earlier, in the form of the goosebumps which still littered her skin and made her shiver as he went by.

Forcing herself to ignore it, she turned away from him and towards the stove, putting down the skillet and splashing a soupçon of olive oil into it before igniting the gas underneath the pan. Trying to put Edward out of her mind, despite his proximity, she turned back to the chopping board she had been using, and picked up the bowl of beaten egg.

Would he mention what had passed between them in the study? If he did, what would she say? What _could_ she say?

"What are you making?"

Once again, Bella jumped at the sound of Edward's voice close behind her, taking a moment to gather her wits before turning round.

"Just an omelette—do you want some?"

Edward leaned forward slightly, peering into the bowl.

"What's in it?"

"Um, I'm just going to throw some chopped ham and spring onions into the pan with a few herbs, pour on the eggs and then add some grated cheese—nothing fancy." She glanced up at him, giving him a small smile.

"Sounds good, do you have enough?" Edward couldn't help but return her smile, the first genuine one she'd given him since this wretched weekend had started.

"Of course, I'll just beat in another egg and grate a little more cheese—there's plenty," she told him, turning down the gas under the skillet.

She put the bowl down and went to the fridge to grab the extra ingredients. Returning to the worktop, she set about adding them to the mix and carried the chopping board over to the hob where she scraped the onions and ham into the pan, turning the gas down a little more as the contents sizzled in the hot oil. She stirred the ingredients for a couple of minutes and then added the beaten eggs.

"You look like you know what you're doing," Edward remarked from where he had settled himself on one of the high breakfast bar chairs.

Bella turned to smile at him. "Well, that expensive education you pay for is very comprehensive." Her smile fell a little. "And, you know, I used to cook with mum." She turned away and busied herself with making sure the omelette mixture spread across the whole pan, covering all the ingredients. But then a thought occurred to her and she swung around to face Edward again, who was looking pensive.

"Um, what about… you know…?" she asked, indicating with a wave of her spatula towards the study to whom she was referring.

"Tanya? What about her?" Edward frowned, giving her a quizzical look.

"Do you think she'll want some?" Bella huffed, looking askance at Edward.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Christ, no—if it's not made with egg whites, skimmed milk and fat-free goat's cheese, she won't touch it with a barge-pole," he blurted.

Bella's mouth dropped open and then, before she could control it, a loud snort of laughter erupted from her. Edward grinned at her, and then, caught up in her infectious giggle, he started laughing along with her. As they grinned at one another, Bella felt her heart do flip-flops at the sight of Edward's gorgeous face lighting up with his laughter, reminding her suddenly of the young man who had been so kind and affectionate to the child she'd been.

When they'd finally got themselves under control, Bella turned quickly back to the pan, grabbing the cheese and sprinkling it over the setting mixture, before quickly finishing it off under the grill. When it was cooked, she flipped it in half and then slid it easily onto a plate. She then cut it in half and transferred one of the halves to another plate. Still smiling, she picked up both plates and carried them over to where Edward had set out place mats, cutlery and condiments. She put a plate down in front of him and set the other one down on the adjacent mat, then hoisted herself up on the chair beside him.

He leaned over his plate and inhaled. "This smells delicious, Bella. Thank you." He looked at her and smiled, their eyes locking for a nanosecond longer than was absolutely necessary.

Bella blushed, looking back at her food. "You're welcome," she told him softly.

She was filled with confusion, barely able to comprehend the myriad of emotions she had experienced since waking this morning—and the day was barely more than half over. It seemed extraordinary that, after the events in Edward's study this morning, they were now sitting companionably, sharing a meal. In fact, so incongruous did it seem, that she was starting to wonder if she had simply imagined the earlier debacle. However, despite her mixed feelings about what she was sure had transpired between them, she very much hoped they could maintain their tenuous truce.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Edward's small moan of pleasure, when first taking a bite of the omelette, rendered Bella a little hot and shamefully wet. She was now starting to second-guess her decision to wear such tiny little shorts, teamed with a thong—which had the absorbency properties of a waterproof Band-Aid.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she was aware that Edward had stopped eating and was looking at her, which caused her blush to fluoresce across her whole face and down onto her chest. She fought not to look at him, but like magnets pulling toward one another, she found herself inexorably drawn to meet his gaze.

As their eyes met, Edward smirked at her and Bella's blush deepened as she imagined that he could read her mind and knew exactly what was going on, both in her head and between her legs.

Scowling at him, she forced herself to look at his plate, which could hardly be cleaner if he'd licked it. At that thought, Bella cursed herself for imagining Edward licking anything, but having been planted, the idea grew and blossomed, and she shivered as her nipples hardened and she got ever wetter. Like a tongue worrying at a loose tooth, Bella's mind wrapped itself around the mental image of Edward licking her… down there. A small moan escaped her, unbidden, and she jumped down from her chair, grabbed both plates and rushed round the breakfast bar to the sink, into which she practically threw the unfortunate crockery. She leaned across and turned the tap on forcefully, causing water to explode out into the sink and splash up all over her.

"_Bollocks!"_ she yelled, jumping back and looking down at herself.

"Shit, Bella, are you okay?" Edward leapt off his chair and tore around the bar to check on her, grabbing her forearms as they both surveyed the damage.

Bella's top was soaked, the material adhering to her like a second skin, which had the effect of outlining her breasts in stark relief. In addition, the cold water—and Bella's hormonally charged imagination—had rendered her nipples painfully hard and erect.

Water continued to thunder out of the tap, pummelling the sink, which was, fortunately for Edward, sufficient to mask the soft groan he emitted as he took in Bella's… situation.

Wild horses would not have been able to tear Edward's eyes away from Bella's chest at that precise moment. However, wild horses had nothing on a Manhattan advertising executive.

"Well, well, that looks like fun—can anyone join in?"

Two heads simultaneously jerked up and towards the sound of Tanya's sardonic tone. For a moment, they both just stared at her, as she took in Bella's soaked and revealing top and Edward's grip on her forearms. Fortunately for Edward, the hard-on he'd been sporting for much of the day deflated like the Hindenburg the moment he heard Tanya speak, but she continued to eye him suspiciously.

The events, which had seemed to be happening in slow motion, suddenly sped up and he willed himself to deal with the situation at hand. Dropping Bella's arms, he turned off the tap and forced himself to speak evenly.

"Bella didn't realise the water pressure was so high and splashed herself. Thankfully, it was the cold tap," he said, directing his comment at Tanya. Then, turning to Bella, he sidestepped around her and grabbed her by the shoulders, quickly spinning her around to face the stairs, hoping that Tanya wouldn't see the worst of the damage. To his unending relief, Bella allowed him to march her out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

"No harm done, Bella, just water. Why don't you go and change and we'll see you down here in a few minutes."

Bella turned her head once to look at Tanya, who continued to frown at the two of them, giving her a small wave as she let Edward propel her forward. He then dropped his hands and turned away, whilst she continued upwards.

As she rounded the top of the stairs, Tanya's slightly nasal drawl cut through the space.

"Dear God, Edward, you need to put your foot down with that girl—I hardly think it's wise to let her prance around here dressed like a hooker."

Bella couldn't hear Edward's response, but she suspected that Tanya had spoken deliberately loudly, and she didn't hang around to hear anymore of her toxic comments. _Bitch!_

Up in her room, Bella stripped off her soaked top and her shorts, dried herself and started riffling through her dresser for something to wear. However, the thought of a) letting Tanya dictate what she should wear, and b) spending anything more than the bare minimum amount of time in her company just depressed her, so instead of getting dressed and going downstairs, she simply threw herself down on her bed and curled herself around one of the pillows.

Five minutes later, still tired from the previous night's activities, she was sound asleep.

**~o0o~**

Downstairs, having helped herself to a cold glass of wine from the fridge, Tanya made her way back to Edward's study, which was where he had disappeared to as soon as Bella had gone up to change. There was something odd going on in this house, she decided, and that annoying little schoolgirl was right in the middle of it.

_Although she's not such a schoolgirl anymore_, Tanya mused with some irritation. She was growing up way too fast, and Tanya was perceptive enough to know that whatever it was that she had witnessed earlier was not the normal byplay one expected to see between a guardian and his ward. No, indeed. That shit needed to be nipped in the bud. Nothing—and she meant _nothing—_was going to get between her and the man she intended to marry.

Tanya had known Edward for many years—their parents had been friends before the Cullens divorced and they both moved in the same social circles. However, it wasn't until after Charlie Swan and his wife had died that she and Edward had become closer. It wasn't so much that he had suddenly noticed her and asked her out, more a case of them being in the same place at the same time (or rather, Tanya making sure she was in the same place as Edward whenever possible), when she would stick to him like a barnacle, playing the solicitous friend, until people just started associating one with the other, inviting them to functions as a couple.

For Edward, still grieving the loss of his dearest friends, and struggling to deal with his new responsibilities, both with Swan Publishing and Isabella, Tanya was an easy option. They knew each other, he didn't have to work that hard to please her, and if he needed a Plus One, she was the perfect choice. She was beautiful, intelligent, financially independent, and he could take her anywhere, introduce her to anyone. And she could converse with them all, from best-selling authors to movie producers, from US Senators to English nobility.

As for the sex, she was sufficiently enthusiastic, vocal and available.

In short, she was many men's dream woman.

If he was pressed, however, Edward would not be able to say that she was _his_ dream woman.

As Tanya sashayed into his study, he looked up from his laptop and watched her as she crossed the room to the couch, where she had earlier taken a nap. She smirked at him as she lowered herself gracefully onto the cushions, crossing her legs and patting the seat next to her.

Edward suppressed a sigh, instead giving her a quick smile.

"Sorry, T, but I've got some work I need to finish before a breakfast meeting on Monday. Why don't you go chill in the living room—Bella will be down in a minute and it would be good if you could keep her company."

"Oh, darling, really! I won't hear of you working when I'm only here until tomorrow," Tanya pouted. "And please don't make me talk to that tiresome child—you know I have no idea how to deal with kids."

She gave a little laugh, as if she'd made a joke, but was a little irked to see Edward's eyes narrow and his jaw clench.

"She's not a child, Tanya—a fact I rather imagined you'd already taken on board. In September she will inherit a substantial fortune and the controlling share of SP, over which I currently have power of attorney. At that point she will effectively become my boss."

Tanya flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Oh, don't give me that. I have no doubt the great Edward Cullen will use all his magical, seductive powers to get that poor, empty-headed ingénue to do just about anything he wants," she said, looking up at him through her lashes. "After all, it always works on me."

She gave a little giggle, which Edward considered to be completely out of character. Several things were wrong with Tanya's assertion. First, he doubted whether any man alive could make her do something she didn't want to do, and secondly, he had never set out to seduce her—in fact, he could barely remember the circumstances under which they had first consummated their relationship, such as it was.

But it was her continued verbal assault on Bella's looks and intelligence which irked him the most.

Okay, he had said some pretty awful things to Bella over the last 48 hours—but when it came to others criticising her, he found himself becoming uncommonly defensive on her behalf.

However, now was not the time and he really didn't have the energy or the inclination to get into it with her.

"Look, Tanya, I really do have to work on this. If you don't want to spend time with Isabella, fine; why don't you go upstairs and have a nice, relaxing bath. We can go out for an early dinner—say, 6.30—as I'm sure you're tired, and I know I am." He forced a smile, just really wanting her to leave him alone.

She heaved a big, rather over-dramatic sigh and stood up. "Okay, okay, I'll get out of your hair. And a bath and early dinner sounds good, actually. Can the child be left to her own devices or do you need to get a babysitter?" she asked, without a hint of irony.

Edward's mouth dropped open and he just stared at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious. To his dismay, he rather thought she was.

"Tanya… darling…" he started, dragging a hand through his hair and cupping the back of his neck as he looked up at her. He made himself think carefully before trying again.

"For a start, as I just said, Isabella is six months away from becoming a legal adult, so a babysitter would not be required if she was going to stay home on her own, okay?"

Tanya shrugged, no longer interested, and started to turn away.

"Tanya?" Edward waited for her to turn back around to look at him, a bored expression on her face.

"But she's not going to be home alone because she'll be joining us for dinner." He arched an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue.

But Tanya hadn't achieved all that she had by not knowing which battles to fight, and despite her disgruntlement at the fact that the girl would be coming with them as a third wheel, she bit back her frustration with Edward and shrugged again.

"Of course, you're right, darling. Anyway, I'm off to take a bath—if you get done here in the next twenty minutes, why don't you join me," she finished, giving him a coquettish smile.

Edward returned her smile, although a good deal less enthusiastically, but didn't respond verbally, simply returning his attention to his laptop screen.

Tanya frowned but did not loiter, exiting Edward's study and heading up the stairs. There was no sign of the girl downstairs, thank God, so she wouldn't be forced to make any kind of small talk with her before she could escape to Edward's room.

Fifteen minutes later, Tanya lowered herself into Edward's huge bath, laying her head back on the padded headrest, and closed her eyes.

**~o0o~**

In his study, Edward came quickly to the rather obvious conclusion that there was no way he could concentrate on what he was doing with all the shit flying round inside his head. He had, in fact, lied to Tanya about the urgency of the task he was working on, as the meeting was not actually scheduled to take place until Tuesday, but it was a convenient lie and he really felt no guilt about it.

Standing up, he stretched his arms above his head before dropping them and then leaving his study. He walked down to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and then turned around to face the sitting area. There was no sign of either Tanya or Bella, and he correctly assumed that Tanya had taken his advice and gone upstairs to bathe. However, he was a little surprised that Bella was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced up the stairs, in no real hurry to join Tanya, and wondered if Bella was still in her room. Why hadn't she come back down?

The thought suddenly occurred to him that she might, in fact, have defied him yet again and gone out, a possibility which he immediately considered likely.

Looking up the stairs again, he made his decision and headed up, taking them two at a time.

Stopping outside Bella's room, he could hear nothing, and his concerns about her whereabouts grew. Without giving the matter further thought, he turned the door knob and pushed the door open.

Inside, the only light came from the window, through which the fading spring sunshine splashed desultorily. However, there was sufficient illumination for him to be able to make out Bella lying on the bed, face up, with one arm under a pillow, wearing just the teeniest, tiniest thong… and absolutely nothing else.

She was clearly fast asleep, her lips slightly parted as she breathed shallowly, her dark chestnut hair fanned out across the pillow.

Conversely, every atom, every molecule, every _part_ of Edward was suddenly wide awake. One part in particular was not just awake but fighting to burst out of his jeans and get to the wantonly beautiful woman in front of him.

_God almighty, she's perfect._

His eyes moved up her long, shapely legs to the curving flair of her hips, her slender waist, and on up to the swell of her pert, firm breasts with their dusky pink areolas and—_oh fuck_—erect nipples.

The groan which slipped from Edward was wholly involuntary and impossible to suppress as his eyes feasted on the exquisite beauty before him.

As if she had heard him, Bella stirred, a soft huffing sound emitting from her lips as she squirmed a little, and it was very clear to Edward that she was about to wake up… wake up and see him standing over her bed, staring at her naked body, and sporting the mother and father of all erections.

This was not good… not good _at all_.

* * *

**END NOTES:**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as ever to MauiGirl60, who rocks as a beta. Thanks, also, to you, my lovely readers, I love your comments and just wanted to say thank you for your kindness.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

With her eyes still closed, Bella pulled her arms above her head and stretched languorously. As she emerged from sleep into full consciousness, she became aware of a slight tingling sensation all over her skin, which was more concentrated at a specific point between her legs.

Suddenly, she gasped, sitting bolt upright on the bed and looking around her in the gloomy half-light. She'd had the intense feeling that someone was in the room with her, but now, as she observed that she was alone, she assumed it was merely the hangover from a quickly evaporated dream, and shook her head at her foolishness.

Sliding off the bed, she walked over to her dresser and pulled out a clean pair of sweat-pants and a baggy t-shirt, quickly dressed, and headed out of her room.

When she got downstairs, she immediately spotted Edward sitting on the kitchen counter next to the sink, a can of Coke beside him and a pensive look on his face. As soon as he became aware of her presence, his eyes widened slightly and he stared at her with a curious expression flickering across his handsome features, which confused Bella.

_Was that… fear? Oh, don't be ridiculous! What would Edward be afraid of?_

She stopped on the other side of the breakfast bar, leaning into it with her hands spread out on the surface.

"Hi." She smiled at him and was comforted to see his face relax as he returned her smile, even though it didn't really reach his eyes.

"Bella."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she cocked her head on one side, knitting her brow in mild confusion.

"Are you okay, Edward?"

"Sure, yeah… just, uh… I was just thinking about where to go for dinner." He gave her another quick smile. "Any suggestions?"

"Oh, are you taking Tanya out for dinner?" Bella frowned. "Why would you want my input—I don't really know the area well enough to recommend somewhere."

"Well, yes, I was thinking of going out for dinner—I wasn't expecting you to cook, and I _know_ Tanya won't—and I was rather hoping you would be joining us?"

The look Edward gave her was expectant, almost pleading, and Bella was momentarily confused.

"Why would you want me to come? I doubt Tanya would welcome my presence." Bella couldn't stop the slight edge creeping into her voice.

Edward sighed and got down from the worktop. "I want you to come, Bella, because, despite our differences, I would like your company. I would also like it if you and Tanya could take the time to get to know one another." He pushed a hand roughly through his hair. "And I would very much like it if you came, because then there's a good chance we'll go to a restaurant that serves real food, and not some place that dishes up half a rabbit's heart on a mashed broad bean with a lark's spittle joue."

Bella burst out laughing, a full-throated, infectious belly laugh, and Edward couldn't suppress his grin, which quickly also turned to laughter.

Bella gasped for breath, trying to calm herself.

"Lark's spittle joue? Oh my God, Edward…" Bella snorted, and then once again doubled up with laughter.

Chuckling delightedly, Edward revelled in the sound of Bella's unfettered amusement, realising that the sound was, literally, music to his ears.

Twenty minutes earlier, his heart had almost stopped beating when he thought he might get caught ogling her near-naked body like some kind of predatory pervert. He knew he had to get out of her room quick before she opened her eyes and came to full consciousness, and turned with a speed he had not displayed since high school football. As he did, he was nearly undone by the sight, in his peripheral vision, of Bella stretching. He willed himself to exit through the door, which, mercifully, he hadn't shut when he entered, and closed it behind him as quietly as possible.

He had practically sprinted downstairs—at least, as quickly as a silent escape would allow—and had then spent the next fifteen minutes in the kitchen, torturing himself with the thought that Bella knew he'd been in her room. When she had suddenly appeared in front of him, his initial reaction was panic—had she seen him?

However, it quickly became apparent that she had not, and his relief was profound.

As their laughter subsided, neither of them could hide the warmth of the smiles they gave one another; a silent acknowledgement of how good the moment had been.

"So—what do you want to eat, Bella?" Edward asked, bringing them both back to his original enquiry.

_You?_

Bella could feel herself starting to blush at the errant thought. To cover it, she knitted her brow and looked down at the counter, as if in deep thought.

"Okay, you know what I really fancy? Indian. I could murder a chicken pasanda," Bella said, her grin wide.

Edward groaned. "Oh, c'mon, B, baby steps, huh? Baby steps. Let's not force Tanya in at the deep end, eh?"

Bella scowled, but couldn't help chuckling at Edward's pained expression. She delighted in the affectionate foreshortening of her name, and the conspiratorial tone of their conversation.

"Hmm, okay, okay. Too much too soon—I get it. How about Italian? Tanya can knock herself out with a Caesar salad whilst you and I tuck into something with a sauce. What do you think?"

"Italian sounds great. We could go to the Montpeliano, which is really nice—it's just down near Harrods. It's got a sliding glass roof over the lower floor courtyard and as the weather's nice, it might be open. The food there is excellent."

Edward was pleased with the idea—he loved the Montpeliano, especially when you could get a table under the glass roof, and the food there really was very good. He smiled at Bella, grateful for her input.

"I told Tanya we'd go out early, as she's pretty jetlagged. If I can get a reservation for 6.30, can you be ready to go at 6?"

"Um, yeah, I just need to change and do my make-up—it's not mega-dressy, is it? I mean, I have some things that I bought yesterday, but I just… well, um… I don't want you to be hacked off with me if I… you know, wear the wrong thing, or whatever."

Bella pulled at the hem of her t-shirt, looking down at the floor. Their new-found détente was so fragile she really didn't want to fuck it up again so soon.

Edward gave a short laugh. "So, _now_ you're worrying about your appearance?"

Bella's head shot up at his tone, but when she met his gaze it was teasing and amused. She huffed a sigh.

"Look, I really don't mind as long as it covers all the critical areas—I would prefer that you didn't give every man in Knightsbridge an eyeful of all your considerable assets."

_That's just for me to see… shit, no, no, no. What am I thinking?_

Bella's eyes widened at Edward's reference to her 'considerable assets'.

_What does he mean? Is he mocking me? Is he saying I'm fat? _

She shook her head and looked away.

"I'll, uh, go see what I've got, then?" she mumbled, turning and practically running out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Edward watched her go and then sighed, running both hands through his riotous hair.

_Fuck me! Considerable assets? Really, Edward? What the fuck is wrong with me?_

The answer did not immediately present itself so he turned his mind to Tanya. He wondered if she would be out of the bath yet and dressed. He knew he was being ridiculous—she was his girlfriend, for Christ's sake, but he really didn't want to be inveigled into having sex with her. He didn't know why, exactly, but something about Tanya was just not doing it for him right now.

He thought about her nasally Manhattan socialite voice, which he used to think was so cultured and cool and which now seemed to grate on him like fingernails on a chalkboard.

He thought about her designer clothes, which he used to think were classy and elegant, and which he now just found ultra-conservative and dull.

He thought about how beautiful he used to find her, and realised he now considered her to be brittle and plastic—she was too thin, too botoxed and too… fake.

Edward groaned as each new revelation was given substance in his mind. This was nonsense. He had to stop thinking this way. Tanya was his girlfriend; they had been together for three years; they made a good team; and the sex was… well, yeah, it was good.

Amongst all these thoughts, a small voice at the back of his mind was starting to gain prominence, but Edward refused to give it house-room, would not allow it to push its way, fully formed, to the forefront of his mind. He would absolutely _not_ allow himself to analyse where these traitorous notions were coming from… or why they were now trying to worm their way into his psyche.

_Absolutely not going there._

He took a deep breath, gave himself a stern internal talking-to and resolutely started climbing the stairs. Tanya should be dressed by now.

_She's not the one I want to see naked._

_Oh, fuck!_

**~o0o~**

At ten to six, Edward sat at the dining table, reading some papers he had printed off a few minutes earlier.

Much to his relief—and Tanya's annoyance—by the time he got to his room, she was bathed and sitting at the dressing table in an elegantly understated cream Givenchy sleeveless shift dress. It had an empire styling, flaring out slightly from under her breasts, the low scoop-neck accentuating her surgically enhanced attributes. Because she was tall, it fell to a couple of inches short of her knees, and she was going to set it off with 3" heeled, tan Louboutins and a small tan Gucci clutch bag.

As Edward entered the room, she looked up at his reflection in the mirror and gave him a thin smile which never reached her eyes. As she continued to put on her make-up, Edward grabbed some clean underwear and told her he was just going to take a shower.

Ten minutes later he stepped out, dried himself quickly and pulled on the fresh boxer-briefs he had brought with him. He hated shaving, so decided not to bother, just patting a little Guerlain Homme on his cheeks and neck.

Back in his bedroom, he dressed quickly, donning a pair of black Armani trousers and a black shirt, which he tucked in, leaving the top three buttons undone. Black socks and shoes followed and a matching black leather belt.

He picked out a grey houndstooth jacket and glanced at Tanya, who was still applying her make-up. _Jeez, how much make-up can one woman wear?_

"I'll wait for you downstairs, T," he informed her via the mirror, and quickly left the room before she could reply.

Fifteen minutes later he was skimming through the documents he had retrieved from his study when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Assuming it was Tanya, who surely couldn't take any longer to get ready, he barely glanced up, but was forced to do a double-take when he saw who it was.

As he stared, transfixed, Bella made her way down and walked straight into the kitchen, barely seeming to notice him.

She was wearing a copy of a sleeveless Herve Leger dress which she had bought the previous day at Kensington market.

It was shaded royal blue to light blue, with a low, sweetheart neckline and wide shoulder straps, ending about mid-thigh; the colour enhanced the creamy luminescence of her smooth, porcelain skin, and the cotton lycra material clung to every curve and plane of her body in a positively sinful way.

It was a dress that could only be worn by a woman with exactly the right amount of curves—no more, no less.

She had matched it with a pair of strappy black Vivien Westwood peep-toe shoes with 4" heels and a tiny black purse-bag which she had slung across her body so it was resting on her hip. Her hair was twisted up and secured on top of her head with a blue claw comb.

Edward swallowed, as so much saliva had pooled in his mouth he was afraid he might actually start drooling.

_Jesus fucking Christ, Tanya is gonna go batshit crazy!_

"Oh, hi, Edward, I'm not late, am I?" Bella asked him casually, clearly oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

"Uhh…" Edward croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "No, you're right on time. We're, uh, just waiting for Tan— _is that what you're wearing?_" His voice caught on the last word, as if his balls were about to drop, although, right now, it felt like they were more likely to fucking explode!

Bella lifted her arms out to the side and looked down at herself.

"Well, duh, it would appear so," she replied, looking back up at him with a frown. "Why, what's wrong with it?" she asked, a slight challenge in her voice.

Edward shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "Nothing. There's nothing wrong with it, B, you look… very nice."

After everything that had happened in the last 48 hours, Edward didn't want to upset Bella or threaten their shaky truce. And, oh man, he liked that dress… a lot.

He would deal with Tanya if—or, more likely when—the time arose.

That time was about to arrive.

Right on cue, he heard his bedroom door open and close and shortly afterwards, Tanya appeared at the top of the stairs and started making her way down. She smiled when she saw him, but as she reached the bottom and her eyes settled on Bella, her smile disappeared like a snowflake on a hot stove.

In profile, Edward couldn't see Tanya's eyes, but Bella could. And the look the older woman gave her was positively homicidal, and Bella shivered a little under the onslaught of such naked malevolence.

"Well, well—had I known we were aiming for the Hollywood whore look I would have dressed quite differently. Although I guess only a teenage girl could pull it off." She gave Bella a saccharine smile and turned away to hold her hand out towards Edward, ignoring Bella's gaping mouth and shocked expression.

"Darling, I'm ready, where are we going?" she purred.

Edward looked at her askance and shook his head. Standing up, he ignored her proffered hand and grabbed her by the top of her arm.

"Excuse us for a minute, Bella, I just have something I want to discuss with Tanya. We'll be right back."

With that, Edward propelled her down to his study, pushing her through the door and closing it behind them.

"What the hell—" Tanya gasped, as she stumbled a little across the room. She swung around to face Edward, her eyes blazing. She rubbed her arm where he had gripped her so tightly but fortunately, her fake tan disguised any redness. Nevertheless, she narrowed her eyes at Edward, preparing to give him a piece of her mind. Before she could speak, however, Edward held up one hand and leaned against the door.

"Don't start with me, Tanya, because I'm not in the mood. I've had the weekend from hell and very little sleep, so my patience is wearing mighty thin."

Tanya made a humphing noise and put her hands on her hips, whilst her foot started to tap a rapid beat on the floor.

Undaunted, Edward approached her, stopping a foot away. In her shoes she was only an inch or so shorter than him and they regarded one another, almost eye to eye.

"Your remark just now was uncalled for and inappropriate, Tanya, and I want you to apologise to Bella."

Tanya's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she dropped her arms and clenched her fists at her side.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me, Edward?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding, Tanya?"

For a moment she was lost for words, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to formulate a controlled yet suitably biting response.

"If you're referring to my comment on her… apparel, even you would have to agree, surely? For God's sake, Edward—"

"I don't give a flying fuck what she's wearing, or what you think of it. She's a teenager, it's what teenagers wear, get over it. Now, I need you to grow up, get over your hissy fit and make an effort to at least maintain a polite and civilised relationship with Bella. She's my ward and my responsibility, and like it or not, she's a part of my life. I don't have the time or the energy to deal with petty jealousies, so just… give it a rest, eh?"

Tanya was incandescent with rage, so much so that she had to turn her back on Edward to ensure she didn't give herself away. _Grow up? _ _How _dare_ he_?

"Tanya?"

She took a deep breath. She had spent her entire life creating the person she wanted everyone to think she was, controlling her feelings and using every weapon at her disposal to manipulate and control others. She had worked long and hard to get where she was, and to cultivate a relationship with Edward—he was perfect for her, and she for him, and she wasn't about to let one slutty little teenager fuck up all her plans. She had forced herself to mould her personality from that of a spoilt, selfish brat prone to tantrums and massive mood swings, who her father would either chastise or, worse, ignore, to the cool, calm and ultra-controlled over-achiever, who now basked in her father's overt and effusive pride. In this same way, she gathered herself and pushed down the anger before turning to Edward.

Giving him what she hoped was a rather sheepish smile, she walked back to him and took both of his hands in hers.

"I'm sorry, Edward. You're right, of course, I'm just being foolish—but, in my defence, I am very tired and it's been a very long day. Forgive me?" She pouted at him, cocking her head to one side.

"Of course I forgive you," Edward smiled, his relief palpable.

_Fucking men, they are sooo easy!_

"Now, can we please just go and have a nice dinner together? I promise you, T, Bella's really not so bad when you get to know her. I know she can be petulant and difficult at times, but it's just a phase, I'm sure of it, and when you actually talk to her she's smart… and funny…"

Tanya put her fingers over Edward's mouth. "Okay, I get the picture, she's an all-round great gal, huh? You know, if I didn't know better, I might imagine you have a bit of a crush on Little Nell."

Edward scowled as he felt a traitorous flush form hot spots of colour on his cheeks. He very much hoped Tanya would put it down to anger.

"Jesus, Tanya, don't be so fucking ridiculous. That's… that's tantamount to accusing me of incest," Edward bristled.

_Whoa, over-react much? What an extraordinarily interesting—and unwelcome—turn of events. Edward has feelings for this girl, and they have nothing to do with his role as her guardian._

Tanya gave a well-practiced, tinkling laugh. "I'm just teasing, darling, don't be so touchy. Come on, let's go or we'll be late. Did you make a reservation?" She captured his hand and walked towards the door.

They left the study and walked back down to the living area, with Tanya holding tight to Edward's hand.

"Edward? Where did you decide in the end? Is it that scrumptious French restaurant in Beauchamp Place? Ooh, I do hope so, I love it there. The French just really know how to cook." She smiled up at him, wrapping her free hand round his upper arm and leaning into him as they rounded the corner to join Bella in the kitchen.

"Hmm? Oh, you mean L'etranger," he finally responded, somewhat distracted. "Um, no, we're not going there."

"Oh. Well, never mind, I'm sure wherever we're going will be lovely."

"We're going to the Montpelier, Tanya—it's Italian." Bella spoke from behind her, a blank expression on her face.

Tanya turned her head, coolly regarding Bella where she sat on one of the bar chairs, one shapely leg crossed over the other. Behind Tanya, Edward's eyes zeroed in on Bella's legs where her figure-hugging dress had ridden up even higher, revealing a generous amount of smooth, creamy thigh.

He quickly forced himself to look away, just as Tanya looked back at him. She furrowed her brow for a moment, but then quickly composed herself, once again turning to Bella.

Pulling away from Edward, she walked over to where Bella was still sitting and plastered a professional smile on her face.

"Isabella, my dear girl. Edward says I owe you an apology, but I'm guessing you knew I was just teasing, hmm?" She reached over and took one of Bella's hands in both of hers. "But in case you didn't realise, I'm truly sorry if you were offended."

She dipped her head slightly to try and make eye contact, and Bella finally looked at her.

"There you are! Now, you know I'm just green with envy because I couldn't possibly get away with that look. But, darling, you look fabulous, truly you do. Edward's forgiven me, do say you forgive me too." Her smile turned into a small pout—clearly Tanya's generic look of contrition.

Bella looked at her and then glanced over to Edward, who was standing looking pretty awkward behind Tanya. She looked back at her, and couldn't help wondering how hard it would be to make a voodoo doll of the phony bitch.

"Of course, Tanya—no blood, no foul. And you're right, of course. No doubt, when I'm your age, I'll also have made the transition from sex kitten to house cat."

Bella gave her a bright smile, as false as the one Tanya had offered her, and jumped quickly down off the chair, before the other woman could respond.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Bella looked at him with concern as he seemed to be choking. He just waved her away and turned to retrieve his keys from the credenza under the window, managing to disguise the laughter he could feel bubbling up as a coughing fit.

Tanya had now closed her mouth and was looking at Bella's back as if she was wondering where first to plunge the dagger.

Finally managing to gain control of himself, Edward looked at the two most important women in his life. Tanya picked up the cream jacket she had slung over the back of one of the dining chairs and he moved to take it from her so that he could help her put it on. Standing by the breakfast bar, Bella retrieved a royal blue pashmina which she had deposited on the counter when she came downstairs. She draped it around herself, throwing one end loosely over her shoulder, before popping her hip and planting a hand on it.

"How are we getting there, Edward," she asked, "because these boots were _not_ made for walking."

"Of course not, what a foolish notion!" Edward smirked, rolling his eyes. "Tyler's outside and is going to run us down there, then pick us up when we're ready to come home."

"Wicked! Okay then, let's get this dog and pony show on the road!" And with that, Bella sashayed across the room and went downstairs, all the while knowing that Edward's eyes were glued to her arse.

A moment later, Tanya and Edward followed her down and out the front door, where the Bentley was idling in the Mews.

* * *

**END NOTES:** 'Little Nell' is a reference to the tragic heroine of Dickens' novel, 'The Old Curiosity Shop'.

You can find visuals and other interesting stuff in my FB group - just insert /groups/417364658302809/ after the FB URL (I'm Liz McFluffy there).


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; this storyline and all original characters are the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as always, to MauiGirl60 for her sterling work on this chapter and to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their continued support. The biggest thanks, of course, go to you, my wonderful readers, who make my heart sing with the lovely things you say about this story. Any words I have are, and will always be, wholly inadequate.

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
**

Bella smiled at Tyler as he held the back door of the Bentley open, then walked past him and round the front of the car to climb in the front passenger seat. She knew there was no way Tanya would let her sit in the back with Edward, so decided to pre-empt her inevitable put-down by opting to ride shotgun for the five-minute ride down to Knightsbridge.

Fastening her seatbelt and crossing her legs, she gave Tyler a conspiratorial smirk as he climbed in beside her. She didn't miss the glance he gave her legs as he returned her smile, and she leaned forward to turn on some music. Immediately, the sound of an electric violin filled the car.

"What's this, Tyler?" Bella enquired, bobbing her head to the music.

"It's a French rock-jazz violinist called Jean Luc Ponty. Do you like it?"

"It's brilliant. Wow, I love it," she grinned at him.

"Don't you have anything else, Tyler—something classical, perhaps?" Tanya asked from the back.

Bella turned round, but before she could speak, she heard Edward sigh.

"It's just a few minutes, Tanya," he said in a low voice, running his free hand through his hair. The other was being held tight by Tanya, who was showing no inclination to let go.

"Why don't we raise the privacy screen and switch the music to the front speakers?" Bella asked.

"Good idea," Tanya responded, leaning forward to depress the button which would activate the screen.

"No!" Edward exclaimed. "Jeez, we'll be there in a minute, leave the damn screen where it is."

Bella smiled to herself and turned to look at Tyler, just as he looked at her and gave her a wink.

Edward didn't see the wink, but he frowned at the apparent silent interplay between Bella and his driver, which he decided he didn't like. At all. No way was he allowing the screen to separate him from Bella and Tyler.

Mercifully for everyone's irritation levels, it really was only a few minutes later that they drove around Montpelier Square and into Montpelier Street, and Tyler brought the big car to a gliding halt outside the restaurant.

Climbing quickly out of the car, he immediately walked round the front and opened Bella's door, offering his hand to help her out, which she accepted, elegantly swivelling her legs around and standing up. Tyler then opened the back door, where Tanya waited, glaring daggers at him. He held the door for her but didn't offer her his hand, as Edward had already exited from his side and come around to help her out. As Tyler shut the car door, Edward quirked an eyebrow at him, but made no comment, other than to tell him that he would call when they needed the car.

Tyler nodded once. "Yes, sir. Have a good evening."

He then climbed back in the car and drove off.

Edward manoeuvred himself between Tanya and Bella, offering an arm to both. "Ladies?"

Tanya frowned; Bella smirked. "I don't think we'll all get through the door at once, Edward," she laughed, then, making a sweeping motion with her arm, she winked at him. "And, you know, age before beauty and all that."

Edward rolled his eyes and, before Tanya could do more than huff irritably, he guided her towards the door with a judicious hand at the small of her back whilst Bella followed behind, chuckling under her breath.

They entered the restaurant and a hostess was immediately in front of them, smiling at Edward.

"Signor Cullen, how nice to see you again," she exclaimed in a strong Italian accent. She then smiled at Tanya and Bella. "And welcome, signorine, to Montpeliano."

"Good evening, Gianna, it's nice to be back," Edward responded. "Were you able to get us a table downstairs?"

"Of course, Signor Cullen, please… follow me," she replied, turning to lead the way towards a flight of stairs on the far side of the restaurant.

Edward glanced back at Bella and smiled.

"C'mon, Bella, you're gonna love this place."

She smiled back. "I already do."

Downstairs, Gianna led them to a table on one side, from where they could look across and up through the centre of the restaurant and see the sky, from which most of the light was quickly bleeding. Beside them, a patio heater meant that they would stay warm, despite the cool spring air now settling, along with the twilight.

As Gianna pulled out Tanya's chair, Edward stepped to the side and pulled the opposite chair out for Bella. When she was seated, he took the chair between them.

Gianna placed menus down in front of each of them and then looked at Edward. _"Cosa posso portarle da bere, Signor Cullen?"_

"Tanya, what would you like to drink?" Edward asked.

"Um, I think I'll have a gin and tonic, please, darling," she said, smiling at him.

"Okay. What about you, Bella?" He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to say she wanted an alcoholic drink.

Bella smiled at the hostess. "_Per me acqua frizzante, grazie, Gianna—_ _con ghiaccio e limone."_

"_Naturalmente, signorina_," she nodded, smiling back. "_Il tuo italiano è molto buono_."

Edward stared at Bella for a moment, then turned back to their hostess.

"_Quindi Gianna, un gin e tonic, un'acqua frizzante e per me un single malt whisky, senza ghiaccio, per favore._"

"_Si, signore_." And with that, she departed to fetch their drinks.

Whilst Tanya pretended to carefully scrutinise her menu, Edward eyed Bella speculatively.

"You are just full of surprises, aren't you, Bella? I didn't know you spoke Italian."

Bella shrugged. "Well, you know how much Mum and Dad loved Italy, so I picked up a bit on holidays; plus, of course, we're back to that expensive education you're providing." She smirked and was rewarded with a smile in return.

"Hmm, seems it's not quite as wasted as Mrs Banner would have me believe," Edward remarked. "Oh, and thank you for not ordering alcohol," he said quietly.

Again, Bella shrugged, picking up her menu. "No problem, I'm not really in the mood anyway. Now, what's good here?"

"Well, the crab is good. In fact, all the fish is excellent."

"Hmm, it all looks yummy."

Tanya looked up from her menu, trying, not altogether successfully, to mask her irritation at the mutual admiration society sitting across from her. "Ugh, no wonder Italian women all have enormous asses, it's all just a bit much, don't you think, Edward?"

Before Edward could respond, Gianna returned with their drinks, putting Tanya's down in front of her a little harder than was strictly necessary, making it splash out of the glass a little and causing a few drops to splatter onto her dress.

"_Scusi, signora_," she exclaimed, placing Edward's whisky and Bella's sparkling water down carefully in front of them..

Tanya tsked and gave the woman a hard look, but said nothing. She suspected that Gianna had overheard her and had done it on purpose.

Bella dropped her head down behind her menu to hide her smirk.

Edward looked between his two companions and then looked up at their server. "_Grazie, Gianna."_

She smiled at him and then launched into a description of the day's specials. "Your waiter will be over in a minute to take your order," she finished in beautifully-accented English.

When the waiter arrived, Bella ordered crab soup and the monkfish in a mussels and clam sauce, Edward ordered ricotta ravioli and filet steak, and Tanya ordered minestrone soup and a Caesar salad.

At this, Bella and Edward both looked at each other and, once again, Bella had to hide behind her menu and bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. Edward was in better control, but only just, and Tanya found herself getting more and more annoyed, as it became clear that her two companions were sharing some kind of private joke, at her expense.

As the evening progressed, Bella casually but determinedly kept the conversation revolving around memories of her parents, anecdotes about authors that Charlie had told her, and various matters relating to Swan Publishing. Edward was happy to talk about all these things, as Bella knew he would be, and on the odd occasion that Tanya tried to move the conversation on to territory which was more familiar to her, either Bella would pull it back, or, much to her delight, Edward would start talking about another shared memory.

It was as if none of the arguments, fraught conversations and wild declarations of yesterday and earlier today had ever happened, as Edward relaxed in Bella's company, chatting to her in a way he hadn't done in years—and Bella revelled in it. As for Edward, he really was starting to appreciate just what an intelligent and amusing companion she could be when they weren't locked in conflict.

Unsurprisingly, Tanya did not share his new-found enthusiasm.

Once they finished eating, she was keen to leave, citing jetlag. Edward called Tyler to come and pick them up, before requesting the bill.

Bella didn't argue, but she was sorry the evening was going to end so soon. The moment they got home, she knew Tanya would want to go to bed, which meant that Edward would go too, even though it was barely nine 0'clock, _on a Saturday night!_

Maybe, once they had both gone to bed, she could sneak out to the pub—there was no way she wanted to be around when they started… _doing stuff._

If she couldn't get out, she would have to go to bed with her iPod on, and she hated trying to sleep with earbuds in. But at least that was better than the alternative—listening to Tanya's sex noises, which reminded her of Samantha from 'Sex in the City'… on amphetamines.

They emerged from the restaurant just as Tyler pulled up, resuming their previous positions for the short drive home. Tanya spent it snuggled up to Edward as close as she could get, one hand on his thigh. As her fingers moved ever closer to his crotch, Edward found himself morbidly fascinated by Tanya's hand. She took this as a very good sign and was much encouraged by it.

Little did she know that Edward's reaction was less to do with enjoyment, and more to do with the fact that he was intrigued by his own utter lack of arousal.

A few months ago—hell, a few days ago—he would almost certainly be enjoying Tanya's ministrations and would be planning exactly what he was going to do with her when they got indoors.

Now, however—not so much.

In fact, having spent the better part of the last 48 hours in a state of aching arousal, it was with some sense of relief that he noted his complete disinterest in having sex tonight—at least, not with Tanya.

And there it was—that errant and unbidden thought: _If not with Tanya, then with whom? With Bella…_

The image from this afternoon—of Bella stretched out on her bed, naked except for her panties—danced across his mind, teasing him, tempting him—and a soft, involuntary groan escaped him.

Tanya was triumphant. So what that he had hardly spoken to her, in favour of inane chit-chat with his little schoolgirl. It was she, Tanya Denali, Queen of Manhattan society, who he would be taking to bed tonight.

She couldn't resist a glance at Bella in the front seat, but she seemed oblivious, babbling nonsense at the driver. No matter; as soon as they got home she would make sure both Edward and Bella understood that she, Tanya, was the only one who could satisfy him.

She gave Edward's thigh a final squeeze just as the car pulled up outside the house.

As Tyler came round to open the door for Bella, Edward did the same for Tanya. He and Bella then both said goodnight to Tyler and Edward unlocked the front door as the car departed.

They all arrived in the living area, and Tanya kicked off her shoes, grabbing Edward's hand and heading for the stairs.

"I'm ready for bed, darling, shall we go straight up?" she asked, smiling alluringly at him.

Extricating himself awkwardly from her grip, Edward gave her a quick smile, slipping off his jacket as he walked over to the kitchen.

"I just need to check my messages first, T, I'll be up in a few minutes," he told her over his shoulder.

Tanya pouted, but then decided how good it would be to get herself settled in bed and then be able to watch Edward take his clothes off before climbing, naked, over her.

"Okay, but don't be too long, darling—I have plans for us," she said with what she thought was a sexy smirk, but Edward had already turned away, hanging his jacket on the back of one of the dining chairs and then walking into the kitchen to get a glass.

Tanya sighed, then looked around for Bella, who she spotted curled up on one of the sofas, flicking through TV channels. She could see that the girl was paying no attention to either her or Edward, so turned and went up the stairs, glancing once more at Edward, who was pouring himself a whisky from the drinks cabinet in the living room. She paused on the stairs to see if he would look at her or speak but he simply turned and walked down to his study. Frowning, she carried on up to his room and shut the door behind her.

Bella continued to channel surf until she found an old movie and realised it was Hitchcock's '_Notorious_,' with Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman.

Bella adored old black-and-white films and could never understand it when her contemporaries said they didn't like them because they weren't in colour. She remembered watching them as a child with her dad, when her mum had gone to bed or wasn't around for some reason—it was their naughty secret, as Renee always complained to Charlie that she was too young for some of the darker _filmes noir_. Charlie would agree, but then give Bella a wink when Renee's back was turned, and the next time they were alone together, he would pull out a DVD from his extensive collection and proceed to educate his daughter on why such films were rightly considered to be classics.

Bella couldn't resist—both because she really loved this movie and because it reminded her of such happy times with her dad.

Pausing the channel, she jumped up from the sofa and quickly went upstairs to her room. She hadn't noticed Edward going to his study, nor had she overheard his brief conversation with Tanya, so she assumed they had both gone to bed.

In her room, she divested herself of her clothes, removed her make-up and threw on her pyjamas—ones with long, soft, clingy bottoms and a matching camisole top in pale blue—and grabbed her blue pashmina round her shoulders in case she got cold; even though the daytime was unseasonably warm, it was still quite chilly in the evenings. She also rummaged in the bottom of her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of furry claw slippers—a gift from Lauren on her last birthday.

Padding quietly back downstairs in her silly slippers and comfy gear, her long hair loose and curling around her shoulders and down her back, she went straight to the kitchen and started making herself a hot chocolate. She liked to make it the way Renee had made it—by heating milk in a saucepan, then whisking cocoa powder and sugar in to make a smooth, rich drink. When it was ready, she poured it into a mug and carried it over to the sofa. On her way, she suddenly had a thought and paused, putting the drink down on a coaster on the dining table and crossing to the drinks cabinet.

Pulling open one of the doors, she grinned in triumph as she spotted a large bottle of Baileys at the back. Pulling it out she went over to the table and took a few sips from the hot drink to make some room, then topped it up with a large slug of the creamy liqueur. She returned the bottle to its place and then made herself comfortable on the sofa, wrapping her hands round her drink and taking a big sip, before pointing the remote control at the TV to resume the film.

Taking another sip, she allowed herself a little moan of pleasure as she watched Cary Grant seduce the younger Ingrid Bergman.

Behind her, Edward closed his eyes and counted silently to ten.

He had just walked, shoeless, into the living room as that exquisitely torturous sound hit his ears… and his long-suffering cock, which he was now attempting to will into submission.

Opening his eyes, it was clear that Bella had not yet noticed his presence and was engrossed in whatever it was she was watching on TV. He knew he should just go to bed, but nothing in his bedroom came close to the allure of what was in front of him on the sofa. So, playing for time, he went to the drinks cabinet and extracted the 12 year old Dalmore single malt to refresh his glass.

The clink of the bottle alerted Bella and she turned quickly, a small gasp escaping her.

"Oh, you scared me! I thought you'd gone to bed," she exclaimed.

Edward turned and made his way over to the sofa, looking at the seat beside her and then at Bella in silent enquiry. She smiled and scooted over to make room.

"Thanks. What are you watching?" he asked, dropping down next to her with a tired sigh.

"It's '_Notorious,_' one of my all-time favourite films. Ingrid's just married Claude Rains so she can spy on him for Cary—" Bella stopped and chuckled softly to herself.

"What?" Edward gave her a quizzical look.

"Nothing… it's just… well, you've probably seen it a million times, so I don't know why I'm describing it to you."

"Actually, I don't think I've ever seen it all the way through, so I'm not really familiar with it—the only thing I know about this movie is that to get around the censorship rules of the time, which said that actors and actresses couldn't kiss for more than… I don't know… five seconds, or something, Hitchcock had Cary Grant just keep giving Bergman quick kisses, but for about 5 minutes."

Bella stared at him, her face a picture of amazement, which made him laugh.

"What—I can't know movie trivia?" He grinned at her and she arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I suppose someone of your advanced years would know stuff like that about old films from the middle of the 20th century."

Bella sniggered, as it was Edward's turn to look shocked.

"You cheeky little minx, I should put you over my knee and paddle your ass for that."

The moment the words were out of his mouth he wanted to kick himself. It wasn't enough that he immediately conjured up the image of a naked Bella, prostrate across his lap with her pinkening ass in the air as he spanked her. No, because along with that, he found himself looking at a somewhat breathless Bella, her eyes hooded and slightly glazed, and her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she bit down on it.

Edward dragged his gaze from hers and swallowed a generous mouthful of scotch, thankful for the distraction of the slight burn in his throat.

Bella transferred her gaze back to the television, seemingly immersing herself in what was happening on the screen.

The awkwardness continued and Edward knew he should leave, but he just couldn't bring himself to go upstairs. Getting up, he made his way back to the drinks cabinet to top up his scotch once again. He was just closing the cabinet door when he found himself opening his mouth and speaking.

"Um, would you like something, Bella?" he asked softly. _Jeez, after all I said about alcohol, why the fuck am I asking her if she wants a drink? _

_Because I'm a fucking idiot, that's why._

Bella turned to look at him over the back of the sofa, and even from this distance he could see the glint of mischief in her eye. He decided he preferred that look to the one she'd had on her face a moment ago.

"I'd love a Baileys, please," she responded, a small smile playing across her lips.

Edward arched an eyebrow at her.

"Pleeeaassee, Eddd-warrrrdddd—it's puddiiinnng," she whined, giving him a very theatrical pout.

Edward tried hard to look stern, and even harder to say no, but as Bella started making her lower lip tremble and pulled her eyes down in a mock affectation of misery, he just burst out laughing. Her answering grin lit up her beautiful face and made it impossible for him to refuse.

"Okay, just this once, alright?"

Bella giggled. "Absolutely!"

He looked sideways at her, knowing she was being facetious, but he pulled out the bottle, nevertheless, and went to get another glass from the kitchen.

"Ice?" he called, opening the freezer.

"Just one lump, please," she called back, and he rolled his eyes.

"One lump? You sure you wouldn't like half a lump… or two lumps?" he teased.

Bella giggled again. "Ooh no, I don't want to dilute it _too_ much."

Edward shook his head, but decided there was no real response to that. He pulled a lump of ice out of the bag and popped it in the glass, then went back to the cabinet and poured two fingers of Baileys. Choosing that moment to look up again at Bella, she was pulling that ridiculous 'sad' face again and batting her eyelashes at him. The awkwardness from moments earlier had completely dissipated, and if a third finger of liqueur could do that, he didn't feel that he wanted to argue. Adding a little more to the glass he re-capped it and put the bottle back in the cupboard.

"Understand, Bella, that this in no way sets a precedent—and if you ever tell anyone I gave you alcohol I will deny it and have you committed to a high-security psychiatric unit as a rambling psychotic who can't tell truth from lies—got it?"

Bella laughed delightedly as Edward came around the sofa and stood looking at her, his eyebrow cocked in enquiry.

Kneeling up on the cushions, Bella forced her face into a serious expression, then put the index finger of her right hand to her pouty lips and kissed it, before slowly drawing it in a criss-cross motion over her heart.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," she whispered, looking up at Edward from under her lashes.

_Fuck. Me!_

Edward just stared at her for a moment and then realised he needed to sit down and pull his shirt out of his trousers in order to hide his response to that little stunt.

_That's the second time she's done that—with the same result! This girl is going to be the fucking death of me._

He quickly turned and put the two drinks down on the coffee table—the very one they had argued across less than 24 hours earlier—and swiftly sat down, whilst tugging his shirt loose at the same time.

He looked round at Bella just as she picked up the glass and put it to her lips. Taking a small sip, she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

"Mmmmmh. Oh God, that's soooo gooood," she purred.

Edward felt it deep in the pit of his stomach, the pleasurable sensation radiating outwards, so that his skin tingled, right from his scalp to his toes.

And right at the epicentre was his dick—and it was rock hard.

_Holy fuck, what is _wrong_ with me! I haven't reacted like this to a woman since I was 16 years old! I'm thirty-fucking-one, for God's sake!_

Edward leaned over and picked up his drink, taking the opportunity to—he hoped—subtly adjust himself. He looked up at the television—mostly because he daren't look at Bella—and realised the screen was frozen.

"Hey, come on, let's watch the movie," he said softly, chancing a quick glance.

Bella smiled, putting her glass down and retrieving the remote control. "Your wish is my command, oh generous one."

Edward snorted. "Yeah, right, if only!"

Bella giggled again and pressed the button to restart the programme, once again becoming enraptured by the action on the screen.

A few minutes later, Edward found himself watching her, as she watched the movie, knowing that the vision before him was a good deal more interesting and beautiful to look at than anything which Hollywood could conjure up. She wasn't wearing a scrap of make-up, and her face, in profile, was stunning—the curve of her cheekbone, her soft, pouty lips, her long, dark eyelashes. She was sheer perfection.

When did this happen? When did she change from a gauche child to this breath-taking beauty? How had he not noticed?

And it was at that moment that the thought struck him.

_I am so fucked._

* * *

**END NOTES:**

**Translations:**

_Cosa posso portarle da bere? – _Can I get you something to drink_?_

_Avrò un acqua frizzant,e per favore—con ghiaccio e limone _– I'll have a sparkling water, please—with ice and lemon

_Il tuo italiano è molto buono – _Your Italian is very good

_ Quindi Gianna, un gin e tonic, un'acqua frizzante e per me un single malt whisky, senza ghiaccio, per favore – _So, Gianna, that's a gin and tonic, a sparkling water, and I'll have a single malt whisky, please—no ice

The music Tyler is listening to in the car is 'Renaissance' by Jean Luc Ponty from the album 'Aurora'.

You can find visuals and other interesting stuff in my FB group - just insert /groups/417364658302809/ after the FB URL (I'm Liz McFluffy there).


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks are due, as ever, to my brilliant beta, MauiGirl60, for knowing the value of a full stop! I am also indebted to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their relentless pimpage. And as for you, my faithful readers, well, you are the bees' bollocks, truly you are.

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

Bella was very conscious that Edward was looking—not to say, _staring_—at her and she could feel her colour rising under his gaze. To mask her discomfort, she picked up her glass and kept taking small sips.

It had to be said that, although she hadn't had a drink with dinner, the large dollop of Baileys in her hot chocolate, combined with the generous measure Edward had given her, which was quickly going down, was starting to make her feel quite… _relaxed._ It was just as well, because Edward showed no signs of dropping his gaze.

After another minute, Bella was desperate to break the silence. "You know, I've watched this movie loads of times, but I'm always on the edge of my seat when she steals the key to the wine cellar and they go poking about."

It seemed to work, as she felt Edward look away, retrieving his glass from the coffee table and taking a large mouthful of the pale amber liquid.

"Hitchcock really knew how to build tension, that's for sure," he mused.

"God, yes, and when she realises she's being poisoned and can't get out of the house, I'm on tenterhooks, thinking Cary won't get to her in time to save her."

Edward chuckled. "How many times did you say you've seen this film?"

Bella finally looked at him, scrunching her nose up. "I know it's stupid. Just humour me, won't you?"

"O-M-G, O-M-G, is he going to rescue her?" Edward cried in a shrill falsetto, putting his glass down and waving his hands in the air, a broad grin spreading across his face.

"Edward Cullen, you are such an arse," Bella huffed, crossing her arms and pouting.

Edward leaned towards her, putting his lips close to her ear. "And you, Bella Swan, are sooo easy to wind up," he said softly, his breath on her neck making her skin break out in goosebumps.

He inhaled involuntarily and was intoxicated by her scent—all fresh wildflowers and honey and vanilla.

_God, she smells good._

Expecting Edward to pull back, Bella suddenly swivelled her head to look at him and was met by two dark green eyes—so much darker now than normal, like a deeply-shaded forest languishing under the fading glow of a lingering sunset. She felt like she could get lost in that forest and not mind a bit.

Edward was feeling similarly transported, unable to drag his eyes away from Bella's twin pools of dark, rich chocolate. He could drown in those pools without even trying to swim.

_Oh, and just lookey there, at those full, pink lips, slightly parted and oh, so kissable._

It occurred to Edward that he had actually never wanted to kiss a woman quite as much as he wanted to kiss Bella—that he had never felt so drawn… so inexorably pulled towards someone as he did in that moment.

Time seemed to stand still—it was like one of those films where the central character remains static while the world seems to race around them at an accelerated speed. He had time to wonder what would happen if he just gave in, just stopped thinking about meaning and consequences and responsibilities. What would it be like? Was it so wrong to want—no, to _need_—to know what it felt like to feel her lips under his?

_BANG!_

The explosive sound of a car backfiring in the Mews made them both jump and pull away from one another.

"Holy fuckbuckets, I thought Tanya had come downstairs with a gun," Bella gasped, holding one hand over her wildly pounding heart—its racing beat not just the result of the loud noise.

Edward's eyes widened as he pulled away from her and then he seemed to grasp what she'd just said.

It should have reminded him that he had a girlfriend upstairs in his bed; it should have made him realise that he was playing with fire down here on the sofa; it should have caused him to jump to his feet and run upstairs.

It should have burst the bubble.

It did none of those things.

Instead, he could feel laughter percolating deep in his gut. He tried to tamp it down, but he just kept hearing Bella's exclamation inside his head and the more he tried not to laugh the more he could feel it fighting to escape, until he couldn't fight it any longer. Finally, the image of Tanya brandishing one of those old-fashioned, trumpet-barrelled blunderbusses sprang into his head and he was lost.

He snorted… loudly.

Bella's eyebrows shot up as Edward clapped his hand over his mouth, to no avail.

Then _she_ snorted… and sort of inhaled in surprise, causing her to snort again—a decidedly piggy sound.

And that was it. The two of them burst into peals of laughter, unable to catch their breath or control the hysteria. Snorting and gasping, the laughter fed upon itself, like a wildfire in a sun-baked forest, until they both collapsed against one another, desperately trying to draw in air until they had calmed themselves sufficiently to be able to look at one another without starting the whole cycle again.

"My tummy aches," Bella whined, leaning against the back cushions of the sofa.

Mirroring her position, Edward inhaled a lungful of air and turned his head to look at her.

"It's your own fault, you ridiculous woman," he sighed, although the laughter still bubbled beneath the surface. "Shit, Bella, I just never know what you're going to say next."

He put both his hands up to his face and rubbed hard, before dropping them to his thighs, and looking back at Bella. It occurred to him in that moment that he had laughed more in the last seven or eight hours with Bella than he ever had with Tanya… or any girlfriend, come to that.

Several strands of hair had adhered to her cheek and lips and, without thinking about it, Edward put his hand up and gently pulled them away, tucking them behind her ear and allowing his fingers to linger for just a moment.

A shiver rippled through Bella at his touch as she turned her head to look at him. "Well, I wouldn't want you to get bored," she said, her voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"No danger of that, sweet girl, no danger at all," he responded equally softly, his eyes locked on hers.

For the longest time, it seemed, they were frozen, as if in a vacuum, the only sound in the room the muted soundtrack of the movie still playing on the TV screen, now ignored by its audience of two, and Bella's breathing as it became shallower and shorter.

Edward's eyes drifted down as Bella's mouth opened slightly and her pink tongue flickered out to wet her parched lips. He followed the movement, his breathing escalating to match hers, before he involuntarily licked his own lips.

He knew she wanted him to kiss her—he could see it in her eyes, the pupils dilating until the brown had turned almost completely black; could tell by the way she unconsciously leaned fractionally closer to him, and the way she, once again, ran her tongue slowly over her top lip and let it linger on her lower lip, her eyes dipping to his mouth and then back to his eyes.

Yes, this time he was absolutely certain she wanted him to kiss her, and he was damn sure he wanted the same thing—the alcohol in his system had lowered his resistance to a point where he no longer had the strength to deny himself.

But therein lay the problem. He knew the whisky he'd consumed since getting home, on top of the whisky and wine he'd had with dinner, was acting like a wrecking ball on his inhibitions, but that knowledge also brought with it an awareness that Bella, too, was under the influence. Perhaps she wasn't as drunk and giddy as she had been the night before, but she had consumed enough to call into question her judgement right now.

As Edward found himself closing what little distance remained between them, he was assailed not just by her endlessly alluring scent, but also by the unwelcome and annoying spark of his conscience telling him to pull back, that this wasn't right. He groaned internally, because in spite of what his conscience was telling him, somehow it _felt_ right.

Suddenly, he was aware of the flicker of confusion on Bella's face, and he realised that his mental machinations were becoming apparent to her.

Reluctantly, Edward pulled away, his inner psyche continuing to war with his desire. He leaned his head back against the sofa and dry-washed his face with his hands. Chancing a look back at Bella, he could see a whole raft of emotions flash in her eyes as she bit down on her bottom lip—desire, confusion, disappointment… anger.

Edward sighed. "It's getting late, Bella, and it's been an outrageously long day for both of us. Let's call it a night, eh? Everything will look different in the morning, I'm sure." He kept his voice low, gentle, not wanting to hurt her any more than he knew he already had. However, the last part was more for his own benefit… because he sincerely hoped he would find a different perspective come morning.

Bella regarded him for a few seconds and then nodded.

"You go, Edward, I'm going to watch the end of the film." She looked away from him then, not wanting him to see the tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

He sat for a moment longer, his gaze transfixed by her profile, noting the curve of her cheek, her unknowingly sexy overbite, and the way her long, dark lashes fanned across her flawless, alabaster skin. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to clear his head of all the inappropriate thoughts he was battling to suppress.

Finally, recognising that it was his very proximity to Bella which constantly stymied his attempts at controlling his baser instincts, he pushed himself up off the sofa and walked away.

"I'll say goodnight then, Bella," he said quietly as he headed towards the stairs.

He barely heard her as she bade him goodnight from where she continued to sit on the couch, her eyes glued to the TV, but seeing nothing.

Edward forced himself not to look back at her and continued on up to his bedroom.

When he reached his room, he stood outside and listened for a moment. Seemingly satisfied, he carefully opened the door and tiptoed in. In the light cast from the hallway he could see that Tanya was naked, lying partially on her stomach, and that she was sound asleep—evidenced by the rhythmic little grunts she was making—a bi-product of the nose-job she'd had done five years ago.

Sighing inwardly, he closed the door as quietly as possible and made his way across the darkened room to his bathroom. There, he had a pee, stripped down to his boxer briefs and brushed his teeth, before returning to the bedroom. Carefully climbing into the mercifully big bed, he was at pains not to wake his slumbering companion. He froze for a moment, as a slightly louder grunt escaped her and she stirred in her sleep, but although she turned over, she didn't awaken and Edward relaxed, putting his hands behind his head.

He lay like that for a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking about all the events of the day. It hardly seemed possible that so much had happened in the space of less than 24 hours, and he felt utterly wrung out by the rollercoaster of emotions he had experienced since he first got the call from Bella's headmistress. _Good God, was that only two days ago?_

Edward knew he needed to think long and hard about what had happened since Thursday afternoon and—more specifically—his extraordinary physical and emotional reaction to Bella.

He wanted to laugh at himself when he thought that a little more than 48 hours ago he had thought the most complicated thing in his life was fending off a covert share buy-out. _Ha, that's chicken feed compared to what's going on in my life right now._

He pulled his hands out from under his head and, for what seemed the hundredth time today, rubbed his face, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. _Man, I'm too fucking tired to think about this shit right now._

If he could just remove the additional complication of Tanya from the equation, he thought he might be able to think a little clearer. She couldn't have chosen a worse possible time to descend on him if she'd tried, but tomorrow at two o'clock her flight back to New York would be taking off and he could stop for a moment and take stock.

Turning onto his side with his back to Tanya, he tried to tune out her grunty little snores. It was something he used to find somewhat endearing, but was perplexed to realise that it had now become more than a little irritating, and he resigned himself to a sleepless night.

However, such was his exhaustion that sleep quickly found him, and, within minutes, even Tanya's snoring was unable to penetrate his slumber.

**~o0o~**

Downstairs, although the film had ended, Bella's gaze was still fixed sightlessly on the TV screen, but her mind was far removed from the antics of a motley crew of comedians vying for the funniest line in an endless re-run of a satirical panel show.

She couldn't help but dwell on what had happened today and, particularly, how it seemed that Edward was going to kiss her—not just here on the sofa, but earlier, in his study, when they had argued and she had suggested marriage. At this point, her attention was finally diverted, as she dropped her head into her hands, a blush of mortification heating her skin, despite the fact that she was alone.

_Oh God, what the hell was I thinking… come to that, what the hell was going on in Edward's mind?_

Bella groaned, starting to dread the morning when she would see Edward again. Maybe he'll spend most of the day with Cruella and then, when she's gone, I can just plead exhaustion and stay in my room for the rest of the day, thus avoiding any confrontation.

This seemed like the best possible scenario to Bella's weary mind, and, decision made, despite her nap earlier, she could no longer fight the encroaching sleepiness which was set to envelop her. She turned off the TV, pushed herself up from the couch and took herself on leaden feet upstairs to her room. At her bedroom door, she paused and looked towards Edward's room. She couldn't help torturing herself with thoughts of whether Tanya had woken up when Edward got into bed—or, if not, whether he had roused her himself, looking for gratification.

She knew she was being ridiculous—Tanya was a howler and Bella suspected that, given the circumstances, she may well have been even more vociferous than normal, just to prove a point. She had heard nothing, however, since Edward had retired, and she allowed herself a modicum of comfort at that thought.

She pushed open her bedroom door, closing it quietly behind her—no point waking the Kraken at this stage of the proceedings, she thought—and climbed gratefully into bed, falling almost instantly into a deep sleep.

During the night, she dreamed, once again, that there was someone in her room watching her sleep, but this time she did not awaken, merely whispering the name, 'Edward,' before turning over and pulling her pillow into a tight embrace.

**~o0o~**

**Sunday 27 March 2011**

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, the good weather continuing to exceed expectations.

Bella woke with a start and pulled herself over to the side of the bed to peer, mole-like, at her alarm clock. She was surprised to note that it wasn't even 8am yet and decided to check for activity elsewhere in the house.

After visiting the bathroom, she cracked open her bedroom door to listen out for movement, but all was silent, broken only by the unwelcome sound of her grumbling stomach.

Pulling on her silk robe, Bella slipped out the door and headed downstairs, hoping to grab some food and bring it back to her room where she could eat in relative peace—and safety. Reaching the kitchen unscathed, she decided to gather enough food and drink to keep her going through the day so that she could keep out of Edward's—and Tanya's—way as much as possible. With this in mind, she rummaged in one of the lower cupboards for a plastic carrier bag, before investigating the contents of the fridge.

On Friday, she had bought various staples, including cereal, eggs and bacon, some really nice bread from the patisserie, and a selection of cakes and biscuits. She had also bought a variety of cold-cuts and cheeses from the delicatessen, plus her favourite Carr's Water Biscuits.

She fetched a dinner plate from the cupboard and started putting out some of the cold meats and cheeses, whilst she put some bacon on to grill for a bacon sandwich to eat for breakfast. She opened a packet of Jaffa Cakes, putting half in a plastic sandwich bag. Putting the bag into the larger carrier bag, she added Jammy Dodgers and a half-size tube of Pringles, plus a couple of cans of Diet Coke and a small bottle of water. She covered the deli-selection plate with cling film and put it beside the bag of provisions, then set about making her bacon sandwich.

"Laying in for a siege?"

Edward's velvet tones, laced with humour, came from behind her and Bella yelped in surprise.

Turning, she did a sort of dance that looked to Edward like running on the spot, and gave a little high-pitched growl, waving her fists at Edward.

"Arrgghh, why must you keep _doing_ that?" she demanded.

Edward couldn't help laughing at her small tantrum, which only fuelled Bella's ire, evidenced by the deepening colour in her cheeks and the flash of her big, brown eyes.

To take his mind off the vision of loveliness in front of him—not the least of which was the acreage of bare leg on display—Edward transferred his attention to the mouth-watering smell of cooked bacon.

"Umm, that sandwich smells good—any chance of making me one?" Edward smirked.

Sighing in resignation, Bella glanced behind Edward.

"She's still asleep," Edward whispered theatrically, anticipating her question.

"Hmm, well, okay—but I'm not making her one, so if she does wake up and comes looking for you, you can bloody well make her breakfast yourself," Bella huffed.

Edward barked a laugh. "Oh, come on, B. Tanya? Eat a bacon sandwich? Are you kidding me? You may as well ask her to eat slugs!" He shook his head, unable to keep the grin from his face.

Bella pursed her lips at him, but said nothing, turning to get more bacon from the fridge and put it under the grill.

"You can have mine, I'll make myself another one," she told him over her shoulder. Edward needed no further encouragement, picking up half the sandwich and taking a huge bite out of it.

"Ummm, dis ith gawjuth," he mumbled, chewing contentedly.

Bella giggled, unable to resist his enthusiasm. She couldn't help wondering if he ever ate anything as simple as a bacon sarnie, or whether he lived on a mixture of take-out and gourmet restaurant food.

As she busied herself slicing and buttering the bread for her replacement sandwich, she heard rustling behind her and looked around to see Edward investigating the contents of her food parcel.

"Jesus, B, what the hell have you got in here? Looks like you could be in danger of OD'ing on sugar," Edward exclaimed, looking up at her with an arched brow.

Bella huffed indignantly, trying to mask her embarrassment at being caught out with so much sugary junk food. "There's cheese and bickies and salami and stuff too," she justified. "And it's supposed to last the whole day so I don't have to keep coming out here."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "What, you were just going to hole up in your room all day and ignore me?" he demanded, but underneath the brusque tone Bella could detect an element of hurt.

Desperately trying to backtrack, she shook both hands in front of her.

"No, no, it's not that I wanted to ignore you," she lied, "I just… you know, wanted to keep out of your way while Tanya's here… you know, so you could spend some time together. And then you were going to be taking her to the airport and... well, you probably won't be home until late this evening, so… I… well, I just thought I'd stay out of your way—in my room—and… and… well, entertain myself," she finished, deflating a little when she realised how pathetic she sounded.

Edward looked at her, a little taken aback by her faltering tirade. Then he sighed.

"Look, Bella, first of all, I don't need you to 'keep out of my way' just because Tanya's here. Secondly, her flight's at two o'clock, so she's going to have to leave for the airport about eleven, and I've arranged for Tyler to take her. I see no purpose in spending an hour driving out to Heathrow, just to hang around in a Costa Coffee Shop for another hour until she decides to go to passport control—which, even flying Club Class, takes forever to get through, so she'll really need to start queuing as soon as she gets there. And then, after all that, spend yet another hour driving back into town. It's a ludicrous waste of time and I've got better things to do—and I'm sure she'd rather get straight to the duty-free shopping in Departures.

"So, there you have it—no need to hide in your room or stock-pile food. In fact, unless you have very strong objections, I'd rather like it if you would share your tasty hoard with me."

And with that, he flashed her a wolfish grin before taking another bite of his sandwich, chewing happily.

**~o0o~**

Tanya packed her small case, her anger evident in the haphazard manner in which she folded her clothes and tossed them into her bag. On the opposite side of the room, Edward leaned against the wall beside his bathroom door, arms crossed, watching her, his face expressionless.

She hadn't been too happy when she woke up, berating him for coming to bed after she had fallen asleep, and then, to compound his felony, when she had noticed his morning wood and tried to come on to him, he had quickly extricated himself, getting out of bed and locking himself in the bathroom, leaving her astonished and furious. And, as if that wasn't enough, to top it all, he had just told her that he wouldn't be able to drive her to the airport as he had too much work to do before the following morning, implying that it was her presence which had distracted him from completing it the previous day.

But Tanya knew better; it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that she wasn't the only—or the worst—distraction in this house.

She straightened and came round the bed, brushing past him on her way to the bathroom, where she noisily gathered up her cosmetics and toiletries, before returning and pretty much throwing them down on top of her clothes.

Finally, she paused and looked up at him.

"I am so angry with you right now, Edward…" she snapped, before clamping her mouth shut and shaking her head.

"This has been a shitty weekend—you know that? I was so looking forward—" She stopped again, biting her lip, and turned to look out the window.

Edward neither moved, nor spoke, knowing she hadn't yet finished. He was right.

She swung back around to face him, her face stripped of its manufactured beauty by the anger and bitterness radiating from her eyes.

"You have gone out of your way to undermine me these last two days, and you have let that… that… _slut_ humiliate me and come between us." Tanya took a breath, but apart from a narrowing of his eyes, Edward still showed no signs of reacting.

A calculating look settled over Tanya's angular face, and Edward struggled to remember why he had ever considered her to be beautiful.

"Are you fucking her, Edward, is that what this is about? Getting your kicks with some tight virgin pussy, a little forbidden fruit?" she sneered, hands on hips.

At this, Edward was finally goaded into action, his long legs propelling him across the room in a flash of movement, taking Tanya by surprise as he stepped in front of her, his large hand wrapping around her throat. Gasping, she looked up at him, wide-eyed with surprise and not a little fear.

Edward regarded her, his face impassive, but in his eyes she could see a burning fury which, if she was honest, terrified her.

"Let me make myself crystal clear." Edward's voice was low, his tone clipped, and all the more chilling for that. "I am not _fucking_ Isabella, nor have I ever done so.

"What's more, if it comes back to me at any time in the future, from any source, that that is the nature of our relationship, then I swear to God, Tanya, I will make you rue the day we ever met_._ Do you understand?"

Like a rabbit caught in the cold gaze of a rearing, hooded cobra, she was seemingly struck dumb, unable to break his deadly spell.

Lowering his mouth to her ear, the softness of his voice belied the menace behind his words. "I said—do you understand?"

She nodded stiffly. "Ye-yes," she whispered, unable to articulate further in the face of Edward's white hot anger.

Edward slid his hand slowly up and down Tanya's neck in an almost sensuous caress. "And I _never_ want to hear you call her a slut—or any other derogatory term—ever again." He cocked an eyebrow at her, letting his hand fall way from her throat and turning casually to look out the window.

"Tyler's here. If you've finished packing I'll take your bag down." He turned to look at her questioningly, his tone even, without any hint of the anger he had just displayed… until she looked in his eyes, and there it was—the heat, the disdain—tamped down, to be sure, but still burning.

She turned away, no longer able to meet his eyes, and busied herself with pushing stuff down in her case so she could zip it closed, and gathering her purse and jacket. She jumped slightly as Edward leaned across her to pick up her case, and he glanced at her quickly before walking across the room to the door and heading downstairs. Tanya took a deep breath and followed him to the lower floor.

There was no sign of Bella when she reached the living room, for which she was thankful, as she had no desire to say goodbye to the girl. Just the thought of her brought Tanya's anger bubbling back to the surface.

Edward was already across the room and standing at the top of the stairs leading to the ground floor. Tanya went to join him and then realised she was missing something.

"Wait, I think I left my black scarf in your study," she called.

Edward nodded. "Okay, I'll see you downstairs," he responded tersely, not bothering to hang around.

Tanya shook her head in dismay, wondering if there was any way for her relationship with Edward to recover from this weekend.

As she turned in the direction of the study, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a long, shapely leg resting on a sun lounger in the roof garden, and she felt her suppressed anger rise to the fore again.

Stepping through the patio doors, she walked resolutely up to where Bella was sitting in the late morning spring sunshine, dressed in a short, blue silk robe, a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ held open in front of her. As Tanya's shadow fell across her, she glanced up, her hand coming up to shield her eyes from the sun as it peeped out from over the blonde woman's shoulder.

"I don't know what game you think you're playing, Isabella, but I'm here to give you a friendly warning." Tanya paused, as Bella barked out a bitter laugh.

"Ha! Friendly? You're about as friendly as a great white shark, Tanya, so spare me the hypocrisy, please," Bella intoned, her voice full of disbelief.

"Okay, you're right, so I'll be straight with you. Edward is mine, he's not available, and even if he was, he's out of your league, little girl. To use your own analogy, you're a minnow swimming in an ocean full of sharks, and Edward is the biggest, baddest, most lethal shark of them all. He'll eat you up and spit you out, honey, and when he's done with you he'll move on to more satisfying sport—and make no mistake, that's what you are to him, a bit of sport, nothing more."

Bella, unhappy with having to look up, particularly with the sun in her eyes, nevertheless knew that if she stood she would then be at an _actual_ height disadvantage, rather than just a _perceived_ disadvantage, so she stayed where she was, but moved her eyes back to her book. Without looking back up, she slowly turned a page before responding.

"I'm touched by your concern, Tanya, but please, don't worry yourself, I'll be fine." Bella shot her a wry smirk, before transferring her attention back to her novel.

Infuriated, Tanya bent closer.

"Listen to me, you little tramp," she hissed, "I'm not about to let Edward just walk away from me after all the years I've put into this relationship, and I'm sure as hell not letting a spoilt English brat who thinks she's something special get the better of me. You have no idea what you're up against. Back off or get burnt."

Bella's head shot up, but before she could respond, Tanya had turned on her heel and marched back across the deck and through the patio doors. A few moments later Bella heard the front door slam and knew that Tanya was gone.

Sitting back against the cushions, she was aware that her heart was beating fast and her hands were shaking slightly. She would never have let Tanya see it, but her words had touched a nerve. It wasn't so much that she was afraid of Tanya—she knew it was unlikely she would see much of her, even if she moved to London, because she would soon be returning to school—she hoped—and thereafter, she would go to university; the fact was, Bella didn't think she'd see that much of Edward, let alone Tanya.

No, what had left her shaken and afraid was Tanya's belief that Edward wanted her…_ that way_.

She wasn't blind, she knew that something was going on between them, but she didn't dare hope that it was something that would so worry Tanya that she would feel compelled to give Bella such a vehement and melodramatic warning.

But even supposing it was true, and Edward did harbour an attraction to her, would it be like Tanya described—a meaningless fuck before being dumped? And knowing that, would she still let it happen?

Bella squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip. She knew the answer to that, and it would do her no good at all to pursue that line of thought.

Unfortunately, her mind seemed to have long since given up listening to good advice and, despite her best endeavours, she couldn't seem to stop herself thinking about what it would be like if she was to give herself to Edward, and damn the consequences.

**~o0o~**

Meanwhile, down in the Mews, both Edward's and Tanya's minds were also working overtime, but along very different tracks.

Tanya was still wishing she'd slapped Isabella while she had the chance. If she'd screwed herself with Edward, she should at least have given herself the satisfaction of knocking that limey whore on her fat ass.

But then, when she looked at Edward, leaning against the front passenger door of the car, arms and ankles crossed, she desperately wanted to salvage something from the wreckage of the last 24 hours.

He was, without doubt, the most attractive man she'd ever known; he was wealthy, successful and a spectacular lover—a true alpha male in every sense. She wanted him—she wanted his ring on her finger, his feet under her table and his cock in her pussy. For Edward Cullen, she would even be prepared to bear his children, if she must—she wasn't keen on the idea but as the last male Cullen, she had to assume he might want that, and if she wanted him, she supposed she would have to give birth at least once (by C-section, of course—no way was she pushing a baby out by natural means). Maybe she could even persuade him to adopt, which would be preferable.

Yes, Edward was definitely the man for her—all others paled into insignificance against him—and she would do everything in her power to keep him.

Standing in front of him, Tanya looked up, her face a mask of sadness and regret.

"Edward, darling, I'm sorry if I upset you," she told him quietly, lifting her hand to cup his cheek, but he straightened, and side-stepped around her before she could make contact, causing her to grimace at his blatant rejection.

Pulling open the back door of the Bentley, Edward stood to one side to let her get in.

"Let's not talk about that now, Tanya. You need to get going in case you hit traffic near the airport. Why don't you give me a call when you get home, hmm?" Edward kept his voice light, wanting to avoid either a confrontation or a long, drawn-out goodbye.

Tanya gave him a small smile, gratified that he seemed to have got over his earlier angry outburst, yet, at the same time, disappointed at the almost total lack of emotion in his voice. But still, he'd asked her to call—that was something, wasn't it?

"Okay, darling. Do I get a kiss," she asked, disingenuously, pouting at him.

Edward offered her a tight smile and leaned in, placing a quick kiss on her cheek, much to her dismay. He then stood back, holding the door for her in a silent gesture to get into the car.

She looked at him for a moment, trying to see beneath the emotionless mask, without success. Shrugging in defeat, she turned away and climbed in.

"I'll call you, then," she said, as he closed the door. Pressing the button to roll down the window, she poked her head out to speak to him where he had stepped back from the car, but at that moment Tyler put the car in gear and pulled smoothly away. She twisted her neck to look back at Edward, who was standing by the front door with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, his face giving nothing away.

"'Bye, darling," she called back, waving to him.

He didn't wave back.

A moment later, the car swung round the bend and Edward was lost from view. She pulled her head back in and rolled the window up, then leaned forward and pressed the button to raise the privacy screen. She had no wish for Tyler to witness her misery.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Massive thanks, as ever, to my beta, MauiGirl60. Also to Cared and to Midnight Cougar. I'm so fortunate to have such a great team on my side. The biggest thanks, though, are reserved for everyone who is reading, reviewing and following Wild Child. I'm astonished, bemused and delighted by the response to this story. Your comments put the biggest smile on my face and if I haven't managed to respond to you, please know that I am hugely appreciative of the fact that you take the time to leave me a comment.

* * *

**CHAPTER TEN  
**

Back inside the house, Edward traversed the living room, noting that there was no sign of Bella, and headed upstairs to her room. Tapping lightly on the door, he called out softly, "Bella, it's me, can I come in?"

When there was no response, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly, but it quickly became apparent that she wasn't there. Still, he couldn't resist going in and inhaling deeply, allowing himself to drink in her delectable scent.

After a moment, he thought he heard a noise outside and walked over to the open window. Sweeping the floor-length net curtain to one side, he looked down to the garden deck directly below the window.

He'd found Bella.

Stretched out on one of the sun loungers, she was dressed in the short blue robe she'd been wearing when he saw her in the kitchen earlier—with one appreciable difference. She had untied the sash and pulled the garment open to reveal what was underneath.

A blue bikini. A very _small_ blue bikini. And skin. Lots of skin.

Edward swallowed the pool of saliva which had suddenly filled his mouth, as he surveyed the perfection of the porcelain-skinned goddess below. A moment later he hissed as his cock swelled inside his jeans and pressed painfully against the zip, despite the protective layer of cloth provided by his boxer briefs.

"Dammit to hell," he whispered, reaching down to try and adjust himself into a more comfortable position. The idea occurred to him that the most comfortable position would be inside Bella.

_Not fucking helping, you moron!_

Squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Edward forced himself to step back from the window.

_This is torture. Pure, unadulterated torture. Why am I doing this to myself?_

He took a deep breath, turned quickly, and left the room.

Downstairs, he headed straight to his study, shut the door firmly behind him, and sat down at his desk. He fired up his laptop and logged into his inbox, determined to immerse himself in work.

And, for a while, it worked.

Over the next couple of hours, he was able to compartmentalise the whole 'Bella conundrum' and concentrate on dealing with the work he'd been neglecting.

So engrossed was he, in fact, that when his BlackBerry chimed to let him know he had a text, he actually jumped in his seat.

He went into his message box and frowned when he saw it was from Bella. Clicking on the text, he read:

Wanna hlp me wth my tasty hoard?

Laughing out loud, he quickly tapped in a response:

Hell yes, my mouth is watering already

Ten seconds later, he got another text:

Come + get it ;)

_A smiley face… she sent me a smiley face… a _winky_ smiley face!_

Unable to suppress his grin, he left the room and went to join Bella in the kitchen.

Except she wasn't there.

Instead, there was a yellow Post-it note stuck to the counter with an arrow pointing towards the windows overlooking the deck, and from where he stood he could see another note stuck to the glass door. He immediately knew exactly where she was and he swallowed hard as he thought about the way she had looked from his vantage point upstairs.

He wondered if she had changed or whether she was still in her bikini.

He wondered if he would be able to disguise his state of… excitement, already becoming a problem again just thinking about Bella in her bikini.

He wondered if he should forego lunch, turn tail and return to his study.

_Jesus H Christ, why can't it be typical March weather in England—cold, wet and windy—instead of this glorious sunny day which is more like June or even early July._

Edward sighed, then walked over to the patio doors, peeking around to see where Bella was—and to assess just how much of a threat she might be to his sanity.

What he saw filled him with warring emotions.

Bella had changed—she was now wearing a pair of cream cotton shorts, which were a little less revealing than the ones she had worn yesterday, together with another of those ripped, cut-off t shirts, underneath which he could see the straps of the top half of her blue bikini. There was no sign of her robe.

Clearly, in an effort to appear a little more decorous, she had gone upstairs to put on the additional clothing before inviting him to share her lunch—a decision which filled Edward with relief, whilst simultaneously proving to be a crushing disappointment.

Nevertheless, he took the opportunity to feast his eyes on Bella's spectacular ass as she stooped to retrieve a large plastic carrier bag from the floor. She extracted a bottle of water, napkins, cutlery and condiments and placed them on the large picnic table, on which she had already set out plates of food.

He saw her stiffen suddenly and straighten, as if she sensed him; she turned around to look at him standing in the doorway, and smiled.

"There you are—I was beginning to think you'd high-tailed it to the airport with Ms Botox 2011... oops, sorry, I mean, your girlfriend." She did not, in fact, look the least bit sorry.

Edward frowned at the reference to Tanya—in particular, to her being his girlfriend because he doubted that was still the case.

He stepped out onto the deck, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "I don't want to talk about Tanya," he mumbled darkly.

Bella was unfazed by his moody declaration, choosing to flash him her brightest smile.

"Good-oh, I'm not too keen on the subject myself. Alrighty, then, pull up a chair and tuck in. I don't know about you, but I'm utterly famished." She grinned at him as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

He chuckled at her good mood and pulled out the chair at the end of the rectangular table, so that he was sitting at a right angle to her. He then took in the spread before him—there was a large plate containing at least four types of sliced cold meats, another plate with four varieties of cheese, two types of pate, two different kinds of crackers, a breadboard with a crusty French stick and a small granary loaf, and finally, a bowl containing red and white grapes and half a dozen shiny, pink-skinned apples. As for drinks, there was the bottle of water he'd seen her pull out of the bag just now, plus a bottle of red grape juice.

"Holy shit, Bella, where did all this come from? I don't remember seeing this in the fridge last night… or in your food parcel this morning." Edward gazed at the veritable feast in front of him, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief.

"Um, no… I, uh, might have popped out earlier when you were working. I wanted to be sure there would be enough stuff you liked?" Bella said this last as a question, as she was starting to worry that Edward did not, in fact, like any of it.

"Enough stuff I'd like? Christ, I'd have to be a lactose-intolerant vegan with celiac's disease not to be able to find something I like here." He looked at her and saw the anxiety in her expression.

"Hey," he said softly, covering her hand with his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "This is fantastic, Bella, really." He smiled at her and was heartened to see her own smile return. "Completely over the top, of course, but fantastic, nonetheless."

They both laughed, and Bella shot him a rueful smile as he set about filling his plate and she poured them both a glass of grape juice.

As they ate, they talked. Although he didn't want to spoil their enjoyment of the delicious al fresco meal, Edward decided he had to bring up the matter of Bella's schoolwork before Monday and what would be happening over the next four weeks until the end of term. To his surprise and delight, Bella was totally amenable to discussing what needed to be done and how she hoped to achieve it, telling him she expected to receive a draft lesson plan from Mrs Banner on Monday, together with the first of her assignments, and that she would then set about adapting it in order to best organise the work.

Ecstatic that Bella was being so sensible and grown up about the whole matter, Edward couldn't help but praise her, earning him a glowing blush and shy smile.

With the matter of her schooling aired and dealt with so amicably, they both relaxed, chatting about all kinds of things, from the latest author signing at SP to the state of the Euro Zone, which Edward was surprised to find Bella so informed about.

Their pleasant discourse was cruelly interrupted, however, when Edward's BlackBerry started ringing.

Putting down his glass, he picked up the phone and glanced at the display. Frowning, he apologised to Bella and then, as he answered it, he got up and walked inside.

At first, she thought it might be Tanya, but from the snatches of the one-sided conversation she overheard from where Edward was speaking in the living room, she realised it must be work. As the call went on, Edward seemed to become more agitated and she knew it was unlikely he would be coming back to the table. As if to confirm her assumption, he suddenly stalked down to his office and slammed the door.

Sighing, Bella started to clear the table, carrying everything inside and loading the dishwasher. She wrapped the leftovers and put them back in the fridge and then went back outside to wipe down the table and collect her book. The breeze had picked up, clouds scudding urgently across the sky. With the sun obscured, it was starting to feel much cooler, so she decided to pack away the sun lounger cushions as well, in case it rained.

Satisfied that everything was tidy and secure, she went back inside, closing the patio doors behind her.

Edward was sitting at the dining table, his laptop open in front of him. He looked up as Bella walked back into the room, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

Bella stopped beside the table, resting her hands on the back of the chair on the opposite side from Edward.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, concern on her face and in her voice.

Edward sighed. "No… at least, I don't think so… maybe…" Edward's hand went reflexively to his hair. "Shit, I don't know."

He looked at his computer screen and then back at Bella.

"I'm booking a flight to New York—I've managed to get us on the 11.30 flight tomorrow morning from Heathrow." He peered again at the screen, moving the cursor and rapidly tapping on the keys.

"Us?" Bella asked, confusion lacing her words.

Edward looked up, the expression on his face clearly telling her that he regarded her question as pointless and stupid.

"Yes… us! You couldn't possibly imagine I would leave you here, on your own, while I'm in New York? Now, stop asking stupid questions and please tell me you have a valid passport!"

Bella frowned at Edward's curt tone. She wondered what he would say if she told him she didn't have a passport, and for a fleeting moment was tempted to tell him just that. However, one look at his face convinced her that it would be a very bad idea to provoke him. There was a problem, though.

"Um, yeah, I had to renew it when I was 16 but, uh, it's in my room at school." She cringed as she waited for the explosion.

He didn't disappoint.

"FUCK! You mean I have to drive down to Sussex and back again today? Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he stormed, both hands gripping his hair, while Bella took a step back, releasing the chair-back and wrapping her arms around herself defensively.

Edward closed his eyes and leaned back, focussing on the ceiling rafters and trying to think calm thoughts. There was nothing to be done about it. He had to get to his Manhattan office before close of business the following day and he had to take Bella with him. Despite their newfound ease with one another, he couldn't forget that just a couple of nights ago Bella had been out drinking and God knows what else until the early hours of the morning, and it was clear to him that it would be enormously foolish to leave her behind.

He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to Bella.

"Go and change, we need to leave as soon as possible—I do not want to spend the rest of the day sitting in a traffic jam."

His tone brooked no argument and Bella turned without a word and went upstairs to her room, silently cursing whoever had called and ruined the day for them both.

**~o0o~**

**Monday 28 March 2011**

The following morning, Bella awoke with a start when there was a sharp rap on her door and she heard Edward shout at her to get up.

Wearily, she tumbled out of bed and into the shower, dreading the moment when she would see him.

The drive to Roedean the previous afternoon had been a pretty much silent affair, with only Edward's iPod to mask the uncomfortable atmosphere. The trip there hadn't been too bad, as Edward pushed the Aston to illegal limits, which Bella supposed at least satisfied his love of speed. However, on the way back they had hit a lot of weekend travellers returning to London from the coast, and it had been slow going for much of the journey. By the time they got back to London, Edward's mood was positively black and Bella had gone straight to her room, robbed of any appetite for dinner by the misery she felt. To top it off, Jess and Lauren were out when she got there and she'd had no time to even leave them a note, as Edward had sat outside in the car with the engine running.

It was so unfair. None of this was her fault, and how was she to know she would need her passport so urgently?

Sighing, she got out of the shower, dried herself and got dressed. As she was keen not to annoy Edward any more than he already was, she put on a pair of skinny black jeans, a fitted white blouse and a pair of low-heeled black ankle boots—the breezy weather of the previous afternoon having been a harbinger of more seasonal temperatures, the thermometer having dropped several degrees overnight. Finally, she pulled her short, black Chanel tweed jacket from the wardrobe, together with her knee-length black wool coat, which she'd had the foresight to grab when she was back at Roedean, along with some additional clothes and a bigger suitcase. Last night, she had checked the weather in New York and it was pretty chilly, so she knew she might need a coat when they got there.

**~o0o~**

After a non-existent breakfast of tea for Bella and coffee for Edward, Tyler had arrived to collect their bags and put them in the Bentley, and they had been on their way. Bella was dreading the idea of sitting next to a monosyllabic Edward on the long flight, but she had charged the batteries in her iPod and her Kindle so that she would have plenty to occupy her. Her laptop was in her case, Edward having reminded her—completely superfluously, she thought, crossly—that being in New York would not preclude her from doing her school work.

On the way to the airport, Edward was preoccupied, checking emails which had come in overnight, and tapping out responses and instructions. He knew he was being unreasonable and unfair to Bella—the call from his CFO yesterday had thrown him for a loop and he knew he was taking it out on her, but he just couldn't help it. If what Mike had said was true, then someone was definitely buying and consolidating shares. Under normal circumstances, it might not have mattered, because even if all other shares besides his and Bella's were acquired by one individual or corporation, he and Bella would still be the majority shareholders. However, two things had spurred Edward into immediate action. First of all, Mike now had information on the possible identity of the nebulous purchaser, and, as far as Edward was concerned, it wasn't good news. At all. And, added to this, was the unknown quantity which he had come to refer to in his head as 'the Bella conundrum.' In just a few months, she would have control of her shares and could theoretically sell them to anyone she wanted—and should the mystery buyer acquire them, either directly or non-directly, then it was going to bring a whole shit-storm down on their heads.

It was this concern, and Bella's current emotional volatility, which was driving his current actions, and the uncertainty was making him bad tempered, with Bella right in his line of fire. The fact that he was having to drag her half-way around the world just so that he knew where she was and what she was doing, rather than having her safely tucked away at Roedean, was further grist to his anger mill. He knew that despite the tension between them, it was far better that he ignore her for the moment, rather than allow her the opportunity to rile him further.

They both were relieved when Tyler pulled up outside Terminal 5 at Heathrow, and Bella looked forward to slipping away from Edward for an hour to do some shopping, once they got through to Departures.

**~o0o~**

The low hum of the aircraft penetrated Edward's thoughts as he sat in his First Class seat on the British Airways Boeing 747, two hours into the flight. Bella had dozed off not long after they had eaten breakfast and he had found it both distracting and disconcerting when she had started mumbling in her sleep, at one point nearly giving himself whiplash when he heard his name uttered in a soft, breathy moan.

That was when he got out his own iPod in order to drown out further distractions from his travelling companion. They wouldn't be landing for several hours, and if she kept that up, he was likely to be arrested for introducing Bella to the 'Mile High Club' right there in the First Class cabin.

With his earbuds in, Edward forced his mind back to the contents of his laptop screen, continuing to work until lunch was served.

**~o0o~**

"Bella." Edward gently shook her shoulder, earning him a soft 'hmmm.'

"Bella, wake up," his voice now a little more insistent.

"Ummmhhh," she moaned, opening one eye to see Edward crouched beside her, at eye level. She smiled at him sleepily, the lovely dream she'd been having about him still lingering at the forefront of her memory.

Edward couldn't help but return her smile, but then was a little taken aback as Bella's eyes widened suddenly and her whole face lit up in a florid blush.

"My, my, what _were_ you dreaming about?" he chuckled, her reaction to him making him wonder if he might be the star of said dream.

Bella scrambled up out of her seat, refusing now to meet Edward's gaze, letting her hair fall around her face to shield her from the focus of her discomfiture. She knew it was foolish—it wasn't like he could read her mind, for goodness' sake—but the dream had been so real, so… _graphic_, and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed when she thought about the things he had done to her in her dream.

"I need to pee," she whispered, making a dash for the lavatory.

"Okay, but hurry up, because they're going to be switching on the seatbelt sign in a minute," Edward called to her disappearing back.

A few minutes later, chivvied along by a flight attendant, Bella was back in her seat with her seatbelt on, as they made their approach to JFK. She was glad to note that Edward's mood seemed to have improved somewhat, and she allowed herself to feel a little excited about being back in New York. She hoped, despite the fact that he was clearly worried about something, she might get to spend some time with Edward.

**~o0o~**

The limousine which had collected them from JFK deposited Edward and Bella outside Edward's condo in Battery Park, from whence a porter appeared with a luggage trolley, onto which he loaded their bags.

Entering the lobby, they were greeted by the concierge, Marcus.

"Good afternoon, Mr Cullen, welcome home." He smiled at Edward and then transferred his attention to Bella, frowning for a moment until recognition suddenly dawned. "Ms Swan, is that you? My goodness, how lovely to see you, and all grown up too. Welcome back to New York." His eyes sparkled with warmth and good humour and Bella was ridiculously pleased that he remembered her.

"Thank you… uh, Marcus? It's lovely to be here," she told him, returning the smile he gave her when she was able to recall his name.

Edward looked on, feeling irrationally irritated by the exchange.

"Is everything okay with the apartment, Marcus?" Edward interjected curtly, arching an enquiring brow.

"Oh yes, sir, all is quite in order. The cleaners were here early this morning, the rooms have been aired, and fresh linens put out. I also arranged for groceries to be delivered as per your instructions, so you should have enough to tide you over for the next two or three days. Just let me know if you need anything else, sir."

"Thank you, Marcus, I will."

And, with that, Edward turned towards the elevators, urging Bella on by the simple expedient of placing his hand on the small of her back and propelling her forward to where the porter was waiting.

As soon as Edward opened the door to his penthouse, whilst he dispatched the porter, Bella walked straight over to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the corner apartment, taking in the breath-taking view, west to the Jersey Shore, and north to the skyscrapers of Manhattan, dominated by the Empire State Building. She hugged herself, trying to contain the excitement which was bubbling up inside her, but Edward's hand on her shoulder gave her away as she jumped and let out a squeal.

Edward couldn't help but chuckle at Bella, as she turned a gleeful face up to him.

"Excited much?" he laughed.

"Oh, Edward, it's… oooh, I'm so excited to be here!" she exclaimed breathily.

He patted her shoulder and walked away towards the kitchen, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a sofa on his way.

"Do you want something to drink?" he called over his shoulder.

Bella turned away from the window and followed him across the room.

"Please—Lord, I'm spitting feathers. Do you have any tea—like, real tea, not that gnat's wee Americans call tea?"

"Annnnddd, straight in with the insults," Edward laughed.

"Oh, don't give me that, you know it's poxy stuff, not even worth boiling the kettle for," Bella huffed, crossing her arms and giving him a defiant look.

Shaking his head, Edward went to one of the overhead cupboards, rummaged around for a moment and then let out a triumphant "Ha!" Turning back to Bella he shook a yellow box at her.

"Here you go, I thought I still had some—Twinning's English Breakfast Tea. Will that do, your Ladyship?" he smirked.

"Perfect, Jeeves. Now, put the kettle on and make a brew before I die of dehydration," she deadpanned.

Edward cocked an eyebrow at her, but said nothing, turning to pick up the kettle and fill it at the sink.

Five minutes later, Bella was sitting on the couch, clasping a steaming mug of tea. Edward grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and dropped down next to her, letting his head fall back against the cushions and closing his eyes.

Bella had already kicked off her bo0ts and now pulled her legs up under her, turning to the side to look at Edward, taking in his patrician profile, which was so at odds with the burnished chaos of his hair.

_He's so beautiful, he literally makes my heart ache._

She shook her head to rid it of the errant and unhelpful thought, the slight movement seeming to rouse Edward from his meditative state.

He turned his head to look at her, his gaze pensive.

"I truly am sorry about all this, Bella." His voice was soft, a little regretful.

She opened her mouth to protest but he stalled her by lifting his hand and pressing two fingers to her lips.

The urge to kiss them was so overwhelming that she had to jerk her head away, causing Edward to drop his hand immediately, his eyes widening in horror.

"Sorry… I'm sorry—"

He sat up suddenly, running both hands through the mess atop his head.

_Don't touch her. Don't touch her. Don't touch her. You fucking idiot, what were you thinking?_

Bella put down her tea and reached her hand out to him, trying to indicate that he hadn't upset her, but he leapt to his feet and started pacing.

"Look, I know this isn't ideal, Bella, but we just need to make the best of things. And I know we just got here, but I have to get to the office, so I'm going to take a shower and change—I need to leave in the next half an hour. I'm sorry to leave you on your own as soon as we arrive, but there's nothing to be done about it."

He stopped pacing and looked at her, but she had dropped her head and was staring into her mug, which was once again clasped between her hands.

"Bella? Are you going to be okay?" he asked softly.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" she responded, her voice barely audible, as she continued to stare into her tea.

Edward sighed, then sat back down on the sofa, his body angled towards where she was perched on the edge.

"I hope you know I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't important, Bella. It's the company—it's nothing for you to worry about, but it's important I deal with a… situation that's arisen."

He dipped his head to try and make eye contact with Bella, who finally looked up at him.

"It's okay, honestly, and I do understand. But will you tell me about it…about what's going on… when you can?" She met his gaze, biting her lip.

"It's complicated, Bella—" he started.

"Edward, please. Don't treat me like a child. I mean, I know I haven't acted in the most mature way of late, but that doesn't negate the fact that I'll soon be 18 and I will then have more than a vested interest in what happens at SP. So, I think I'm… um… well, I think I'm entitled to know a little of what's going on, you know?"

Bella was desperately trying not to piss Edward off, but she did want to make the point that she had a right to know about the business she was going to inherit.

Edward just looked at her, his gaze intense, and she really started to think she had made him angry again, but then he closed his eyes and dropped his head for a moment, before looking back at her, a somewhat determined set to his jaw.

"You're right, Bella, and I apologise. SP has been my responsibility and my sole focus for so long, that I tend to forget that it's not mine… well, not completely." He gave her a small, crooked smile, the one which did rather odd things to her.

"Okay, new plan. How about this, hmm? You come up to the office with me now and I'll introduce you to a few people. Then, while I sort out things and talk with my CFO, you could maybe go do some shopping or something, and then, when I'm done, we could meet up and have an early dinner. What do you think?"

Once again, Edward turned the full force of his dazzling smile on Bella, and she knew that if he asked her to walk across hot coals for him, she would. She couldn't help but return his smile, particularly as he seemed so pleased with his plan.

"That would be brilliant, Edward, really. I'd love to come to the office and meet everyone, and dinner sounds fab, thank you," she gushed, unable to contain her delight that Edward was finally letting her into the business.

Bella wasn't so naïve as to assume he would suddenly start asking her opinion about work-related matters, or including her in the decision-making process, but just the fact that he was willing to introduce her to the people who worked for him—and ultimately her—was real progress in her eyes. She was more excited about this than the fact that he had invited her out for dinner… well, perhaps _as excited_ might be more accurate.

"Good, I'm glad. However, one big question remains," he said, a speculative look on his face.

Bella looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out what he could possibly mean. "Wh-what?" she asked timidly, worried now that whatever it was might mean he would change his mind.

"Can you be ready to go in—" Edward looked at his watch— "25 minutes?" He crooked an eyebrow at her, his expression serious.

Bella laughed. "Just watch me!"

She jumped up, taking him by surprise, and quickly crossed the room to grab her case. "Same room as last time?"

Edward nodded, and she disappeared from view.

**~o0o~**

Twenty-three minutes later, Edward exited his room, pulling on a dark, charcoal suit jacket as he walked into the great room. He stopped dead when he saw that Bella was sitting at the breakfast bar, legs crossed, dressed in a dark navy suit, with a skirt which stopped several inches above her knees. It was teamed with a silvery silk camisole beneath the jacket, and navy pumps with three-inch heels. Her thick, mahogany hair was twisted up on top of her head and secured with a silver comb, and she looked every inch the svelte, sophisticated business woman.

Sliding off her bar stool, she picked up a navy shoulder bag from the counter and walked towards him.

"I'm ready if you are," she told him, a smile playing across her lips. "Will I do?"

Edward stared at her, momentarily robbed of speech. Fortunately, the door buzzer pulled him out of his stupor.

"Um, that must be the driver," he said, going around her to get to the intercom. As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to see she had turned to watch him. "But you, um… you look great… fantastic. Yes… very good," he told her, almost bumping into the wall as he reached the door. He punched the button on the console, looking at the video screen in front of him. Seemingly satisfied, he barked that they would be right down..

Bella giggled softly at his discomfiture, glad that it was someone else being clumsy for a change.

She joined him at the door and he opened it to let her through, his hand once again at the small of her back as he ushered her out, locking the door behind him.

* * *

**END NOTES:**

If you're on Facebook, why don't you come join my closed group, Fiction & Fluffery. FFn won't let me put anything relating to a link in any format at all (not even with gaps and dots in brackets), so you will need to go to FB and then insert this next bit after the FB URL - groups/417364658302809/ - It's where I post story visuals, information and audio teasers, and where we just generally talk bollocks amongst ourselves.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Huge thanks, as ever, to my beta, MauiGirl60, who shows me that there is always room for improvement. Thanks also to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their help and support. Last, but not least, thanks to all who have followed, favourited and reviewed my story. I'm endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I haven't responded to your review, please forgive me, and know that every review is precious to me.

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Just after 3.30pm, the Lincoln Town Car that had been sent to pick up Edward slowed to a halt outside SP's offices. The driver got out to open the back door, first for Edward and then Bella, to whom Edward offered his hand as she exited.

Smiling at one another, they entered the opulent lobby of the building, Edward's hand once again at the small of Bella's back as she looked around in appreciation. It was the first time she had been to the office, as this had always been Edward's domain. Since her parents' deaths, she had visited him once in New York, and then only at the apartment, so this was a whole new experience for her.

Emerging from the lift, they were confronted by a reception area which would have looked good in one of those glossy American TV shows about Hollywood lawyers.

A seemingly mandatory blonde looked up and turned on a 100-megawatt orthodontist's dream of a smile at Edward.

"Good afternoon, Mr Cullen, I didn't know we were expecting you," she simpered (at least, that was Bella's interpretation).

"Hopefully just a flying visit, Heidi," Edward responded, immediately turning away and guiding Bella down a corridor to their left, not bothering to introduce her.

They walked past a number of glass-fronted offices until they got to the end where a set of double doors barred their way. Edward reached out and opened the left-hand door and ushered Bella through into another office, where yet another ubiquitous blonde sat at a large desk in front of a PC.

_Crikey, what is it about Edward and blonde employees? Does he not employ brunettes or redheads? Is that discrimination? Do they turn up with different hair shades and just all dye their hair blonde?_

As she thought this, the particular blonde in question turned her attention to Edward and raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," she drawled superciliously.

"Nice to see you too, Rosalie," Edward responded tersely.

The woman ignored Edward and looked at Bella, her haughty features creasing into a quizzical frown. She didn't address Bella, but instead looked back at Edward with a questioning look.

"Rose, this is my… uh… this is Isabella Swan. Isabella, this is Rosalie Hale, my Executive Assistant," Edward announced.

_Oh crap, not another ice queen bitch-troll to deal with._

Bella mentally girded her loins and stepped forward.

Rosalie, clearly taken aback for a moment, just stared at Edward with a shocked expression on her lovely face. But then she seemed to gather herself and suddenly swung her chair around, lithely rising to her feet, and stepped around the desk.

"My God, so you are the thorn in Edward's side," she exclaimed, breaking into a huge smile and proffering her hand to Bella.

"Rose, for God's sake—"

"Shut up, Edward. Isabella, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you."

Bella looked at Edward's pained expression and couldn't help chuckle as she took Rosalie's hand.

"Um… yeah, me too, Rosalie?" she said, a little unsure of whether that was actually true.

"Oh no, sweetheart, the pleasure is definitely gonna be all mine," the statuesque blonde replied, clasping her other hand over Bella's, effectively sandwiching it with her own, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Bella looked between the two of them, trying to work out quite what was happening here.

Edward rolled his eyes and Rosalie laughed. "Call me, Rose, honey—and I'm betting you prefer Bella, right?"

Bella looked closely at Rose, who was still holding onto her hand, wondering if there was any artifice behind her fulsome greeting.

"Yes, actually, I do prefer Bella," she replied, pleased at the woman's perception.

"I thought as much," she smiled, before finally dropping Bella's hand and turning to Edward. "And I'm guessing you're here to talk to Mike, which is just as well, because he's starting to piss me off."

Edward raised an eyebrow, but Rose just held her hand up, with her palm towards him. "I know, I know, he's a great CFO, yada, yada, yada. Look, why don't I call him, tell him you're here and then while you two are strategizing, I'll show Bella around."

Edward frowned, not sure he liked the idea of Rose talking to Bella whilst he wasn't around, but he really did need to speak to Mike and it was already nearly four o'clock.

Rose, however, didn't appear to be overly concerned about gaining his approval, as she was already on the phone, telling Mike Newton to come to Edward's office—although not in such polite terms.

"Okay, he's on his way, the papers are on your desk and there's fresh coffee in the pot. I'll take my BlackBerry with me in case you need anything else," she informed him briskly, before putting her arm around Bella's shoulders and guiding her towards the door.

"Come on, honey, come meet the gang."

Halfway out the door, she glanced over her shoulder at Edward, who was still standing in the same position, watching them depart with a pensive look on his face.

"Don't worry, Edward, I won't tell her anything too scurrilous," she laughed, before pulling the door shut on her scowling boss.

As the two women turned to head down the corridor, a blond man came scurrying in their direction, stopping in front of them. His features screwed up into a somewhat pained expression when he looked at Rose.

"Rosalie," he said, with a nod of his head, her name sounding like a rebuke.

"Michael," she replied, in a similar vein, much to his obvious disgruntlement.

"I'll just go in then," he said, stepping around her.

"You do that," she smirked, about to walk away.

"Hang on." He swung around as if he'd just noticed Bella. "Are you… you are, aren't you, you're Isabella!" he exclaimed, sounding almost accusatory.

"Uh—" Bella started to say, but was cut off by Rose.

"Well spotted, Sherlock. Bella, Mike; Mike, Bella. Now, Edward's waiting, he's not in the greatest mood, and time's a-ticking. We've got things to see and people to do." And with a dismissive wave of her hand, Rose slipped her arm through Bella's and pulled her away down the corridor.

Rose mumbled something under her breath that sounded a little like "assad" to Bella, but she wasn't sure.

"Pardon me?" she asked, feeling both intimidated and awed by the tall blonde walking beside her.

Rose laughed and looked down at her. "I said ass-hat, if you must know. Take no notice of me, Bella, I'm the resident bitch. It can be difficult to make friends, but the upside is that people don't fuck with me. I was going to say I have enough friends, but I'm thinking I may have room for one more." She arched an eyebrow at Bella, questioningly.

Bella wasn't quite sure what she wanted her to say, but decided she should probably say _something._

"Oh, well… I, uh…good-oh."

Rose gave another throaty laugh. "Hey, kid, I'm sorry. I don't mean to come over all psycho with you. It's just that anyone who ruffles Edward's feathers the way you do has got to be someone I want to be friends with."

"I ruffle Edward's feathers?" Bella asked, confused.

"Oh my God, are you kidding me? You mean, it's not deliberate? Oh, honey, you are so wasted at that English stuffed-shirt school."

Bella giggled, and would have responded, but just then they stopped outside a glass-fronted office and, without preamble, Rose threw open the door and pulled Bella into the room with her.

"Hey, Ang, I just wanted you to meet Bella, Charlie Swan's girl, and, more importantly, the woman who cracks the façade of Mr Emotionless. Bella, this is Angela Weber, our Managing Editor."

The slender, dark-haired woman on the other side of the desk stood up, the broad smile on her face softening the angularity of her features, accentuated by the rather severe spectacles she wore. Coming around the desk, she held her hand out to Bella and shook hers warmly.

"Bella, so good to meet you, we've all heard so much about you," Angela greeted her.

"Uh, yeah, thanks, Angela," Bella responded uncertainly.

Rose spoke up behind her. "Don't worry, kid, it's not all bad… and if you ask me, the bad bits are the best ones." She chuckled again to herself and then pulled Bella out of Angela's office to continue the tour, which was a lot more of the same.

After about 20 minutes of this, Bella asked if she could use the lavatory—or the 'loo,' much to Rose's confusion—as she needed a break, and Rose showed her the way.

When she emerged from the cubicle, Rose was waiting for her by the washbasins, where she was furiously texting on her BlackBerry.

"Ah, there you are. So, what were you going to do for the rest of the afternoon while Edward's being Chief Executive Orifice?" she asked, finishing her text and looking up with a smile.

Bella had to chuckle at Rose's nickname for Edward, but, at the same time, she was somewhat uncomfortable with her blatant disrespect.

"Um, well I was going to do some shopping, and then I'm meeting Edward later for dinner," she told her.

"Oh fuck, you don't have to sit opposite the man with a personality bypass for the rest of the evening, do you? Jeez, that's bad luck. If I—"

"Rose, please—stop!" Bella exclaimed.

"What?"

Bella took a deep breath. She really didn't want to piss off Rose—apart from the fact that she was seriously scary, she was just really pleased that she was being friendly, and so unlike Kate back in London. However, there was no way she was going to let anyone—other than herself—slag off Edward so relentlessly.

She looked at Rose, who had a comically surprised look on her face, and knew she needed to be upfront with her.

"Look, Rose, I appreciate how nice you've been to me, I really do—believe me, it's a refreshing change from Kate, Queen of the Orcs, who does your job in London."

At this, Rose barked a loud laugh and held her hand up for a high five, which, after a moment's hesitation, Bella gave her, with a rueful chuckle.

"You are not shitting me, Bella. What the hell has that snotty bitch got stuck up her ass?" she asked, shaking her head.

"I'm glad it's not just me, then."

"Nope, definitely not just you. At all. So, what's the problem, kid?"

"Oh God, Rose, I don't know how to say this without offending you, and that so isn't my intention, but, uh…" Bella sighed and looked at the ground.

"Spit it out, kid, I promise I won't shank you and stuff your body down the waste chute," Rose offered.

Bella glanced up at Rose, unsure whether she was joking. "Okay, it's just, I'm really uncomfortable with you being so… horrid about Edward." Bella squeezed her eyes shut and cringed. _Oh God, I am so pathetic._

"Whoa, I was _not_ expecting that!" Rose exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Rose—please don't hate me, I really like you and I'm sure you have your reasons, but he really isn't at all like you describe, not to me, and I can't bear to hear you say such ghastly things about him, like he's emotionless and he's got no personality… that simply isn't true, and I don't think you should say it… not to me, anyway, because, well, I don't like it, and I'm sor—"

"Hold your horses just a damn minute there, honey. Okay, take a breath, and calm the fuck down." Rose turned to the vanity unit and grabbed a couple of tissues from the box there and handed them to Bella, who had tears coursing down her face and was sniffling loudly.

"Come on now, don't cry, sweetheart. Hey, hey, shhh." And with that she wrapped her arms round the distraught girl, pulling her face against her shoulder, and rocked her gently from side to side.

"Don't ever think you have to apologise for telling people what you think is true and right—do you hear me?" Rose asked softly, pulling Bella away from her a little so she could smooth her hair away from her damp cheeks and look at her.

"It's okay, Bella, don't worry. I'm not going to fall out with you about this. You clearly know a different Edward to the one I know—I happen to think the asshole is the real deal, but if you say not, who am I to argue? You've known him longer than me… although, it has to be said, you've never worked for him." She smiled down at Bella, taking the sting out of her words.

Bella wiped her face and blew her nose, taking a deep, still slightly tremulous breath, and went to lean against the counter.

"Sorry about being so emo… put it down to jetlag. I'm not usually such a cry-baby, honestly. And I'm not completely oblivious to Edward's arsehole tendencies, Rose, but I've seen the good man inside him, the compassionate, kind and generous man, the one with a great sense of humour who makes me laugh, who talks to me like a grown up and makes me think and… and there's no need to look at me as though I've lost my mind, I'm telling you the truth!" Bella frowned at Rose's look of incredulity.

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't doubt your sincerity, I'm just astonished that you're so in love with him," Rose blurted, shaking her head in disbelief. "I mean, jeez, I know he's hot, with the sex hair thing going on and all, but… Edward? Really?"

"Wha— I'm… I don't... no… oh no, no… I…that's just…" Bella stared at Rosalie, her mouth a perfect 'O' of surprise, incapable of rational speech.

Rose laughed uproariously, a very unladylike guffaw, as Bella just continued to look at her aghast.

Finally taking pity on her young companion, she took a deep breath and calmed herself, putting a solicitous arm around Bella's shoulder.

"Ah, don't mind me, kid, I won't hold it against you." _But I wouldn't mind betting that Edward might want to hold something against you._ "And, for what it's worth, his best friend has been telling me the same thing for years, I just couldn't see it. But enough about Edward. Come on, let's see if he'll give me the rest of the afternoon off and we can go shopping." She grinned at Bella and pulled her out of the bathroom to head back to her office.

**~o0o~**

An hour later, the two women were trying on shoes in Bergdorf's when Rosalie's phone rang. Digging in her bag, her face broke into a radiant smile when she read the caller ID.

"Hey, Bear, whatcha want?" She laughed loudly at whatever the response was and turned away from Bella to find a quiet corner.

Bella glanced across at her but then returned her attention to the beautiful burgundy suede platform ankle boots she was wearing, walking back and forth in front of the mirror.

"Oh, to be seventeen again and be able to get away with shoes like that!" came Rose's voice behind her.

Bella looked up at her in the mirror and smiled. "They're Jeffrey Campbells and they're only $150. I think I might get them," she said looking back down at her feet.

"You should. Now, that was my man. I told him we were shopping and he's just down on Wall Street, so he said he'd meet us for a drink as soon as he can get up here. Is that okay with you?"

"Um, I don't know. I should call Edward. He wanted to go for an early dinner and he may have made a reservation…" Bella trailed off, not wanting to piss Rose off again.

Rose smirked at her. "No problem, hun, give me one minute," she said, holding up one perfectly manicured finger, whilst pulling out her phone again. Hitting a speed-dial number she put the phone to her ear and waited.

"Hey, it's Rose… yeah, yeah, she's fine. Jeez, what did you think I was gonna do, sell her to white slavers?" Rosalie rolled her eyes at Bella, who responded with a quizzical look.

"We're going to the Monkey Bar for a drink, Em's meeting us there… oh, for fuck's sake, of course I'm not going to buy her alcohol!" Rose shook her head, a look of exasperation on her face. "Okay, we'll see you there. Chill, Edward."

Rose hung up, as Bella gave her a surprised look.

"There. Problem solved, Edward is meeting us at the bar."

"Oh, okay… um, who's M?" Bella asked, her confusion evident.

"What? Oh, Emmett, my boyfriend—who also happens to be Edward's best friend."

"So who's Bear, then?" Bella asked, even more confused.

Rose laughed. "You'll see," she said cryptically, pulling Bella down on a seat so she could change out of the shoes she'd been trying on.

**~o0o~**

Bella and Rose sat in a booth in the art deco bar off Fifth Avenue, soft jazz playing in the background as they sipped their drinks—having heard Rose's side of her conversation with Edward, Bella hadn't even bothered asking for anything alcoholic, opting instead for a sparkling water with a slice of lime.

The bar was packed with office workers getting an early evening drink, but Rose had apparently had no problem securing them a table, which didn't altogether surprise Bella. She was currently listening to Rose explain how she had met her boyfriend, who it seems had literally swept her off her feet about a week after she started working for Edward. Bella laughed at Rose's descriptions of Emmett and their early dates, and wondered what sort of man he was that could render her new friend so soft and girly when she talked about him.

Two minutes later she found out.

"Tiiiiger!"

The shout came from near the door and momentarily silenced the noisy chatter of the other clientele. Before Bella could even look round, Rose leapt up and knelt on the seat, leaning over the back with her arms out in front of her.

"Beeeaaarr!" she called, and Bella then saw a huge man in a dark suit barrel across the room. He had shoulders like a rugby forward—or, she supposed, more accurately, a linebacker from the NFL—and thick, muscular thighs. He was at least 6'4" tall and she would have been intimidated but for the huge grin on his face, bookended by a pair of the cutest dimples she'd ever seen outside of a Pear's Soap ad, all topped off by a thick mop of dark curls. She understood exactly why Rose had given him such a nickname.

When the Honey Monster reached Rose, he enveloped her in a massive hug across the back of their seat, his mouth suctioning over hers in a PDA of epic proportions.

But Rose was thumping hard on his chest and he finally backed off, looking down at the blonde beauty in front of him with such adoration in his eyes that Bella felt a little swamped by it.

"You big lug," Rose laughed. "Come on round and meet Bella before you embarrass us both."

Emmett looked over Rose's shoulder and grinned at Bella, giving her a wink, before releasing his girl and coming around the booth to slide in next to her.

"Hey, Bella, it's great to meet you—Edward's always complaining about you," Emmett laughed, and Bella couldn't help but be charmed by the larger-than-life, testosterone-fuelled man-mountain. Reaching across Rose, she took Emmett's proffered hand, which completely enveloped her own.

"Likewise, Emmett, although I'm afraid I can't say Edward's ever even mentioned you," she responded, smiling at him disingenuously.

Rose barked out a laugh. "That'll teach you, asshat. Don't fuck with Bella, she's got brains as well as style and beauty."

Emmett gave her a wry smile. "Okay, you got me, Swan. My bad."

"No problem, I forgive you," she smiled, finally retrieving her hand from his all-encompassing grip.

"Where's Eddie?" Emmett asked, looking around and then back at Bella, as she nearly snorted water out of her nose.

"You okay there, Bell?" he asked, frowning.

"Oh. My. God. You do _not_ call him Eddie! Oh my days, that is hysterical—doesn't he hate being called that?" she finally said, managing to curb her laughter.

"Ha! He doesn't hate it, he _loathes and despises_ it," Emmett deadpanned.

"That's right, _Emmy,_ I certainly do."

Bella's head shot around to where Edward was standing behind them, in the same place that Emmett had been when he'd arrived a few minutes earlier.

Emmett's booming laugh drew her attention back to him, as he held his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, _Ed-waaard_, point taken, enough with the nicknames."

"Thank you, Emmett. Now, what are we all having?" he asked, walking around the booth to sit next to Bella, at the same time, with an almost lazy gesture, attracting the attention of a waitress, who shot over to their table like she'd been launched by a giant catapult.

Rose smirked. "Well, in honour of Bella's visit, I think we should have champagne," she announced, quirking an eyebrow at Edward.

"I don't think s—" Edward started, before being overruled by Emmett.

"Damn straight we're having champagne!" Emmett demanded, looking up at the girl who had appeared at their table, standing a little too close to where Edward was sitting. "A bottle of the '99 Taittinger and four glasses, please, honey."

"Not for Bella, Emmett—" Edward again tried to intercede.

"Jeez, Edward, lighten up, will ya. One glass of champagne is not going to hurt, surely?" Emmett sounded exasperated, but no more so than Edward.

"Please don't interfere, Emmett, this is my call," Edward hissed, lowering his voice.

Emmett pulled away from Rosalie for a moment, turning slightly to face Edward in the booth. Dropping his voice as well, he spoke quietly but his tone was intransigent.

"No, Edward, it's not your call. I'm buying champagne and I'm inviting _both_ of you to join me and Rose in toasting Bella's arrival in New York. I insist," he finished, fixing Edward with a steely gaze.

Bella, who had been squirming uncomfortably between the two men, looked between them and, when it looked like Edward wasn't going to respond, finally spoke up.

"Um, look, it's okay, I'll just have another—"

Rose swung her head to look at Bella with a raised eyebrow. "No you fucking won't, Bella. In France, they give wine to ten-year-old kids and no one thinks twice about it. You're going to have a glass of champagne and Edward can go screw himself if he doesn't like it," she practically snarled.

"No, please, I don't want one, really—" Bella pleaded, desperate now for the subject to be dropped.

Edward rolled his eyes at Emmett and Rose and then raised both hands, palm outwards, in defeat.

"Okay, okay. Jesus, you'd think I'd suggested withdrawing food and water from the girl. Go ahead, order the bloody champagne. I'm going to the bathroom."

And, with that, he got up and pushed past the waitress, who was still loitering next to the table in the hopes of getting his attention.

Edward glanced at her and she smiled up at him, triumphant, only to wilt under his coruscating scrutiny.

"You—did you not get our order—one bottle, Taittinger champagne, 1999, four glasses—now, please," Edward demanded, staccato, before brushing past her to head towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Disappointed, the girl finally walked away to get their wine.

Bella sat back in her seat and dropped her head, giving careful attention to her hands in her lap.

"Sorry, hun, that was all a bit stupid and unnecessary," Rose told her softly. "I don't know what Edward's problem is but when these two lock horns, it can get a little messy sometimes." She smiled and looked back over her shoulder at Emmett, who was scowling in the direction Edward had gone.

Shaking his head, he turned to give Rose a gentle smile and slipped his arm back around her shoulders.

"Take no notice of us, Bella, Edward and I have been competing since we were freshmen at Harvard. It's just hot air, sweetheart," he chuckled, hoping to take the sting out of the situation.

Bella just nodded, looking up briefly to flash them a very weak smile. She didn't want to tell either of them why Edward was being so grouchy about her drinking alcohol, so felt it was better just to say nothing.

A moment later, their waitress returned with the requested wine and four champagne flutes, which she set down in front of them, before presenting the bottle to Emmett for his approval. When he nodded, she withdrew it and started trying to open it, but was clearly struggling.

Bella looked up, frowning at the girl. "Um, you should hold the cork and twist the bottle, not the other way around," she suggested.

"Don't sweat it, miss, I do know how to open a bottle of champagne," the girl snarked back.

"Actually, _she's _right, and _you_ are doing it all wrong," came a velvety smooth voice behind her. "Here, give it to me," he demanded, taking the bottle out of her hands.

With one swift twist of the bottle, the cork popped with a soft "phuft" sound and Edward started pouring it into the glasses, careful not to overfill them.

"Um, thanks… can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked sullenly, flouncing off when they shook their heads.

"Bloody hell, I thought Americans were supposed to be the service champions of the world. What flew up her arse and stung her on the spleen?" Bella exclaimed, looking incredulously at the girl's retreating back.

There was a moment of silence before Emmett and Rose both exploded with laughter. Bella looked at them askance and then looked around at Edward, who had slipped back into his seat beside her.

He tried to look stern, tried to hang on to the bad mood Emmett and Rose had plunged him into, but Bella's remark, the laughter of the two across the table, and the growing smile which Bella was clearly fighting to contain, finally defeated him and he started to chuckle.

"Oh, B, what am I going to do with you," he sighed, an amused smirk still playing about his mouth.

_Absolutely anything you want, Edward, truly._

She looked away, smiling to herself, as Rose and Emmett finally stopped laughing.

"You know, Bear, I think I love this woman," Rose said, grinning at Bella. She reached over and picked up her glass of champagne, holding it up and waiting for the others to pick theirs up. She looked around at her three companions one at a time, then back to Bella.

"Welcome to New York, honey. We are gonna. Have. A. Blast." She extended her arm and held her drink up, with everyone else quickly following suit to clink their glasses together.

"WELCOME TO NEW YORK!" they all cried, even Edward, and took a sip of the fizzy drink.

Bella smiled as the bubbles hit her tongue, the rich, dry, biscuity taste of the wine exploding in her mouth as she savoured the delicious champagne.

"Thanks, everyone, it's good to be here," she replied, smiling broadly, before glancing at Edward, who, she discovered, was looking back at her, an intense but unreadable expression on his face.

Rose glanced around at Emmett, who was watching his best friend and the beautiful young brunette with a puzzled expression on his face. Transferring his gaze to Rose, he cocked his eyebrow at her questioningly. She shrugged and leaned back to whisper in his ear. "I'll tell you later, Bear."

**~o0o~**

Several hours, two bottles of champagne and three or four beers later, they were still in the Monkey Bar. Rose had called the restaurant where Edward had made a reservation, only to be told that their table could no longer be held, thus they had decided to stay put and eat there. In the end, Bella had had two glasses of champagne but had then gone on to alcohol-free cocktails. Curiously, this was not at Edward's insistence, but her own. In fact, after the second glass of champagne, he seemed to forget his previous objections to her drinking and had told her she could have what she wanted, each beer he consumed making him ever more ebullient and carefree.

Bella was currently clutching her stomach, her head on Rose's shoulder as she laughed uncontrollably at Emmett's description of Edward's first few weeks at Harvard, where it would seem the term 'stuffed-shirt' may have been invented specifically with him in mind. He had apparently arrived dressed in a Harris tweed suit and brown brogues on a warm October morning, and Emmett recalled Edward's lament after he had challenged him a couple of weeks later about his attire. _"But this is a serious place for serious people," _he had apparently whined, and Emmett had felt sorry for him, taking him under his considerable wing.

The two men were as dissimilar as chalk and cheese, but somehow Emmett's natural _joie de vivre_ and good humour rubbed off on Edward, whilst, conversely, Edward's seriousness and his shrewd, analytical mind tempered Emmett's worst excesses and rash decisions. Allied to their natural athleticism and competitiveness, it made the two friends a force to be reckoned with around campus, whether it was on the rowing team or the debating team.

Because of Edward's dysfunctional family life, he was doubly grateful for Emmett's friendship throughout his college years, spending most of his downtime with the big man. In direct contrast with his own family, Emmett's was large, boisterous and chaotic, but deeply loving and supportive, and without even questioning it, they took Edward to their hearts and treated him as just another member of their huge tribe. In truth, Edward sometimes wondered if they even knew themselves who were relatives and who were just friends, such was their largesse towards outsiders. Edward had often ruminated on how he would have survived his late teens and early adulthood without Emmett and his family, frequently concluding that he may not have done so—at least, not in any way that would have left him capable of success in either his business or his personal life.

That thought, of course, made him smile ruefully to himself, because although he had enjoyed considerable success in business, he had to concede that he was pretty crap at personal relationships. Edward being Edward, he failed to take account of his relationships with his mentor, Charlie Swan, his friend, Emmett or, indeed, his ward, Isabella.

Edward felt a gentle poke in his ribs and looked around, his gaze immediately locking with a pair of deep, chocolate brown eyes which sparkled with amusement and… something else he couldn't identify.

"What has you looking so thoughtful, Emo-Boy?" she asked, smirking up at him. As his eyes dropped to Bella's luscious lips he suddenly registered what she had called him—the large amount of beer having slowed up his thought processes considerably.

"Emo-Boy? _Emo-Boy?_" he queried, his voice starting to rise a little. He leaned into her, his nose barely an inch from hers, and wagged his finger in her face.

"Who the fuck are you calling 'Emo-Boy' you… you… _party-girl!"_ He cringed, squeezing his eyes shut, and dropped his head to the table, banging his forehead on the wooden surface.

Emmett and Rosalie, who had been talking quietly to one another and had missed the earlier exchange between Bella and Edward, looked around, startled to see the normally buttoned up and serious Edward apparently drunk and banging his head on the table.

"Whoa, Eddie, what's up, man?" Emmett asked, his concern somewhat overshadowed by the shocked amusement he was trying to hide. Rose could only stare, speechless.

"Ooh, witty comeback Edward, Oscar Wilde would be quaking in his boots…" Bella paused, bowing her head to look more closely at him, before letting out a small gasp and putting her hand to her mouth. "Edward, are you… oh bloody hell, Baldrick! Edward, you're _drunk!_" Bella gasped, struggling to comprehend this turn-around.

Edward stopped banging his head, simply turning it to one side to look at Bella. There was silence round the table as all eyes were on Edward, whilst his eyes were staring intently at Bella.

He opened his mouth to speak, but at that precise moment their food turned up.

The waiter put a plate down in front of Emmett and then looked at Edward.

"Um, excuse me, sir," he said, hovering next to Edward, a plate of food in one hand.

Edward suddenly sat up straight and looked around him. "What?" he exclaimed, and then looked up at the waiter accusingly.

"Your halibut, sir?" the waiter offered uncertainly.

"Oh, right, okay," Edward said as the waiter carefully set the plate of food down in front of him.

Bella couldn't mask the small chuckle she let out, drawing Edward's attention back to her.

Without thinking, she raised her arm behind him and rubbed his back gently. "Hang in there, Emo-Boy," she giggled.

Edward scowled at her, then leaned into her again, until his mouth was so close to her ear she could feel his breath fanning across her neck, making her shiver.

"Oh Bella, such disrespect. Just you wait 'til I get you home," he whispered huskily, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and she shivered again, feeling her nipples harden painfully, and uncomfortable wetness making itself known between her legs. Squirming away from him, as the waiter returned with her own plate of food, together with Rose's meal, she told herself not to look at him. But like a moth drawn to a flame, she found her eyes inexorably pulled to his and the heat and intensity there literally robbed her of oxygen, as her breath momentarily stuttered and stalled in her chest.

"Breathe, Bella," Edward smirked softly, turning to his food and picking up his fork.

For a second—which felt like an hour—Bella was unable to look away from his perfectly sculpted profile, but then a sharp kick against her foot brought her back to the here and now and she turned to see Rose looking at her askance, one eyebrow cocked and her lips pursed in silent remonstrance.

She shook her head, and turned her attention to her food. "Ummmh, this looks great," she said to no one in particular, as she picked up her knife and fork and started to eat. However, thinking about the plans Edward might have for her at home ensured that within half an hour of finishing her meal, she would have no memory at all of what she ate.

Emmett ordered another round of beers and, much to her surprise, when he started to ask what Bella wanted, Edward spoke up.

"She'll have a small glass of dry white wine—the Russian River Sauvignon Blanc, and I'll have the same," he told the waitress. He turned to Rose. "Or, if you prefer wine as well, Rose, we could get a bottle?"

They all looked at him, and Bella started to refuse, but he just smiled at her and shook his head.

"Rose? Emmett?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, actually, a glass of wine sounds good, let's get a bottle," Rose responded, seemingly surprised at her own agreement.

Edward looked at Emmett. "No, you guys go ahead and get a bottle, I'll have another beer," he said, smiling at Edward.

When the waitress had withdrawn to fetch their drinks, they resumed eating in silence for a short while, until Rose started talking about something that had happened in the office the day before, and with that the conversation started to flow again. Unlike when she had gone to dinner with Edward and Tanya, there was never any awkwardness in the conversation, as Bella's three elders constantly included her and asked her questions.

Bella kept looking at Edward, who had seemed so drunk just a short while ago but who now seemed perfectly sober, albeit he was more relaxed and outgoing than she'd seen him in years. However, at one point, as he poured more wine into her glass, he spoke softly to her so that Emmett and Rose, who were momentarily wrapped up in one another, wouldn't overhear.

"Tonight is an exception, Bella," he told her quietly, his eyes flickering from hers to her mouth. "Make the most of it, because I won't always be quite so amenable about your drinking."

"I didn't ask for the wine, Edward," she pointed out, keeping her own voice low and non-confrontational.

"I know, I just…" he sighed. "I just wanted us to have a nice evening and I'm sorry I was such a prick when I came in, but… well, it's been a stressful afternoon."

He paused, looked across the room absently and then back at Bella, who had decided to just let him speak.

"So, did you have a nice time with Rose?" he asked and Bella frowned at his non-sequitur.

"Um, yeah, it was great—I bought some shoes!" she told him, grinning.

"Of course you did—because I'm sure you are that rarity amongst women, a girl who doesn't have too many shoes," he laughed.

Bella slapped his arm. "Oh, yeah, right, because you only have two pairs of shoes," she rejoined, rolling her eyes at his blatant hypocrisy.

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Okay, okay, pax, Swan!"

The evening continued on in this vein, until they noticed that the bar was starting to empty and Emmett glanced at his watch.

"Shit, it's nearly midnight!" he exclaimed. "Come on, Rosie, we need to hit the road. I'll get the check—"

"Forget it, Emmett, I'll get this, you and Rose can head off," Edward interrupted.

"You sure, man?" Emmett asked, to which Edward gave him a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Okay, cool, I'll get the next one, right?"

"You better."

Bella got the impression this was a well-rehearsed and oft-repeated routine, and got up to go to the bathroom.

"I need the loo and you'll probably be gone when I get back, so I'll say goodbye," she said, smiling down at Rose and Emmett.

Rose stood up and threw her arms around Bella. "It was sooo good to meet you, Bella. We'll do this again soon, okay?" She pulled back, bending her knees slightly to peer a little drunkenly at her new friend.

"We better," Bella told her, emulating Edward and Emmett's byplay.

Edward stood up to let her pass, letting his hand trail lightly across her back as she did so. She was just looking back at him when she was caught up in what could only be described as a bear hug by Emmett, who had made his way around the other side of the table.

"You take care, little Bell, you hear me?" he told her, lifting her right off her feet and crushing her to him.

Barely able to draw breath, Bella nevertheless squeezed her arms round Emmett's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I sure will, Emmy. I'm so glad to meet you and know that Edward has such a good friend." She stopped talking then, not just because she had run out of air, but because she knew, in her slightly inebriated state, that she might well cry if she said more to this lovely man.

With one more squeeze, he set her back on her feet and planted a big, wet kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle. He then turned to his friend, holding out his hand as if to shake Edward's. Edward reciprocated, seeming unsurprised when Emmett pulled him into a major man-hug, the two men slapping each other's backs, before pulling back with wide grins on their faces.

"I'll see you when you're older, Em."

"Yeah, and I'll see _you_ when you're uglier."

Both men laughed and then Emmett grabbed Rose's hand, pulling her to him and then wrapping an arm around her waist.

Quickly leaning over towards a surprised Rosalie, Edward placed a brief but soft kiss on her cheek.

"What was that for?" Rose asked, surprised, instinctively putting her hand up to her cheek.

"Just to say thanks for taking care of her, Rose," Edward told her, his voice quiet and sincere.

Rose quirked an eyebrow at him but said nothing, just nodded, and then the couple turned and left, just as the waitress arrived with the bill.

Edward paid, and Bella returned from the bathroom to find him on the phone. As she approached he turned it off and slipped it into his pocket.

"Come on, we can get a cab outside," he said, holding out his hand. Bella glanced at it for a moment before slipping her own hand into his and they exited the bar to find a cab.

Outside, the street was teeming with people and cars and taxis; it took only moments to hail one and they were soon on their way home—and Bella couldn't help but wonder what would happen when they got there.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

My thanks, inadequate as they are, go to my brilliant beta, MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar – you are all Top Ladies!

**WARNING:** Yet more under-age drinking in this chapter. This all seemed entirely normal while I was writing it, but now I'm starting to think I've got a problem – or Bella and Edward have! (This would probably be worrying if I actually gave a toss!) Gird your loins, peeps, the roller-coaster ride is about to rumble up the first incline!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

They were both quiet in the taxi home, sitting close together but barely touching. Edward pretty much stared straight ahead and Bella fixed her gaze on the world going by her window. The easy camaraderie of the restaurant seemed to have completely dissipated the moment they got in the cab, and Bella felt a little deflated.

Pulling up outside Edward's building, she scrambled out of the car whilst Edward paid the driver. In the lift, they stood at opposite sides, staring straight ahead, and Bella was at a loss to understand what was going on.

At the door of the apartment, Edward unlocked the door wordlessly and ushered her over the threshold ahead of him, following her in. As she walked slowly ahead of him, Bella was suddenly brought up short when he grabbed her arm, spinning her back to face him as he leaned against the door, pushing it shut. Off balance, Bella swung right round but was saved from falling by Edward's other hand on her hip, steadying her.

Looking down at Bella's upturned face, her surprise evident in her wide eyes and parted lips, Edward was consumed with need—a need he had been fighting all night, but particularly since he got in the cab, and which he had finally given into as they entered the apartment, her scent hitting him as she walked past. His hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, darted out to pull Bella back to him before she could disappear to her room.

Knowing that he needed to say something—anything—in order to stop himself from kissing her, he tore his eyes away from her plump, pink lips and, without releasing her, stared over her shoulder and licked his own lips.

"Tonight was fun, wasn't it," he said, addressing the wall, his voice much huskier than he had anticipated.

Bella frowned slightly. "Um, yeah, it was, I enjoyed it. Rose and Emmett are great," she told him, her voice soft and a little uncertain.

He looked down at her again, releasing her arm and raising his hand as if he might touch her face, but when his fingers were barely millimetres away—so close, in fact, that Bella could feel the static energy against her skin—he paused and then dropped his arm, at the same time pulling his other hand away from her hip. Letting his head fall back against the door, he closed his eyes, sighing in defeat, and Bella knew the moment had passed and that, once again, Edward had withdrawn from her.

Stepping backward, she looked up at him one more time. "It's late Edward and I'm shattered. I'll see you in the morning… goodnight," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper. She then turned around and went straight to her room, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him.

**~o0o~**

That night Bella dreamed that Edward came to her, that he knelt beside her bed, his fingers gently outlining her face. In her dream, he kissed her, slowly, languidly, before slipping under the covers and covering her body with his own. Her soft moans elicited a low, husky groan from him as he pressed himself against her.

'_Edward.' _His name fell breathily from her lips and then he was gone, like a wraith, as if he'd never been there.

Eventually, she fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep, though the ache in her chest and the throb between her legs ensured that it was a troubled and restless slumber.

**~o0o~**

**Tuesday 29 March 2011**

Bella awoke the following day feeling headachy and gritty-eyed and was appalled when she saw that it was well past noon. Leaping out of bed, she showered quickly and dressed, before heading to the kitchen, hoping to find Edward there.

What she found was a note stuck to the fridge.

_B—Gone to the office, didn't have time to practice CPR in order to bring you back from the dead! Will call you later. How about a quiet night in with pizza and a DVD? E_

Bella stared at the note, re-reading it several times. She was a little disappointed that she'd missed Edward and wouldn't see him all day, but he said he'd call and the thought of spending an evening alone with him, watching a movie and stuffing pizza sounded really great, so she determined to occupy herself usefully until he called and they could make plans for their cosy night in. With that decided, she set about preparing herself a decent breakfast. She then retrieved her laptop and settled on the sofa to start working through the study modules she'd been emailed from school, happy to have something to distract her.

So engrossed was she in writing her second essay of the day, on the vexed question of _How far were the policies of Chamberlain in facing the challenges from Nazi Germany in 1939 'Dangerously Negligent?'_ that it was with a certain degree of surprise she suddenly noticed that it was gone 5.00PM. She was even more surprised, and a little concerned, that Edward hadn't yet called her. Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, she decided to send him a quick text in case he was stuck in meetings and couldn't make or receive calls.

Hi – ru ok? Wots the plan?

Half an hour later, when she hadn't received a response, Bella sent another text.

RU not talking 2 me LOL? Wot time will u b home?

Frowning a little at her phone, she put it down and stared at it, as if she could make it ring merely by the force of her will. After five minutes of that, she realised it was pointless and tried to get back into her essay, but Edward's silence was really starting to bug her. Nevertheless, she forced herself to leave him alone until the time eased past 6.00PM before she determined to call him—it was outside office hours now, after all.

Hitting the speed-dial for Edward, she put the phone to her ear only to hear it go straight to voice mail.

"Oh, um, hi, Edward. Um, you said you would call and it's, uh, ten past six now, so… well, I was just wondering what time you'll be home. If you're going to be late, can you let me know, as I'm getting hungry. So, uh, yeah, give me a call… or text me, or something. Thanks. 'Bye."

Bella pressed 'End Call' and slowly put the phone down on the table. After a moment, she got up and went into the kitchen to get a drink.

Half an hour later, just as she was starting to really freak out, thinking that maybe Edward had had an accident, her phone beeped—not a call, just a text.

She picked up her phone and slid her thumb over the screen to activate it, closing her eyes in relief when she saw that there was a message from Edward. Sadly, her relief was short-lived, swiftly turning to hurt and anger.

Sorry B, got held up, have to go for dinner with client, go eat, will see you later

Bella dashed away a tear, telling herself that it wasn't Edward's fault, and the business had to come before cosy nights in front of the TV, but she couldn't help being hurt that he'd waited so long to let her know, and then by text rather than calling her.

She took a deep breath and told herself to get a grip, that there were any number of reasons why Edward might have been unable to call. Instead, she decided to call him, be grown up, tell him she was fine and good luck with the client.

She pressed Speed-dial 3 and was pleased to hear the phone ring rather than divert the call to voicemail.

"Hello, Edward Cullen's phone," an unpleasantly familiar voice announced.

"Hello? Who is this?" Bella enquired, as dread washed over her.

"Oh, Isabella, it's you, how silly of me. It's Tanya." The voice on the other end made Bella's hackles rise, and she was pretty sure the toxic trollop knew exactly who was calling before she even answered the phone.

"Tanya, what are you doing there?" Bella queried, keeping her voice as even and neutral as she could.

There was a throaty laugh on the other end. "Oh, sweetie, why wouldn't I be… I live here."

Bella felt like her blood had literally turned to ice water and she found herself swallowing back bile.

"What?" She barely managed to croak out the word, and knew she should hang up, but like picking at a scab, she just couldn't stop herself.

"I said, I live here. Edward and I are just about to have dinner… well, when he's finished in the shower, that is."

Bella couldn't help but register the note of triumph in Tanya's voice, but even if she hadn't, Tanya was about to ram it home. Without bothering to wait for Bella's response, she continued speaking.

"I did warn you, little girl—you play with the big kids, you're likely to get stomped on. Don't bother to wait up, Bella dear, I don't imagine Edward will be coming home tonight." Her trilling laughter was cut off as she hung up, leaving Bella listening to the dial tone for several seconds, before she pulled the phone away from her ear and turned it off. After a long minute, she stood up and went to the kitchen, where she got a glass from the cupboard, together with a cereal bowl, then went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of ice, from which she filled the bowl. Carrying the glass and the ice back into the living room she deposited them on the coffee table and then went over to a low cabinet across the room, flinging open the doors and perusing the contents. Her eyes lit upon an almost full bottle of Grey Goose vodka, which she grasped by the neck and carried over to the sofa.

Half way through her second very large, very strong vodka, which contained barely a splash of the Diet Coke she'd found in the fridge earlier, the tears started to roll down her face. Finishing her drink she poured a third, gulping it down before huge, shuddering sobs engulfed her.

She knew she was being stupid—Edward had never indicated that he had any interest in her romantically, and why would he? What she had imagined as flirtation had obviously been little more than a patriarchal affection which she had totally misread. It was clear that Edward was attracted to sophisticated, socialite blondes his own age, not pathetic little brown-haired schoolgirls.

Bella refilled her glass, adding the remainder of the Coke, which barely discoloured the liquid, drinking most of it down before flopping over on the sofa and burying her face in a cushion, muffling her wracking sobs.

Gradually, her tears began to dry on her face and her body ceased to shudder, as first an alcoholic haze, then sleep claimed her.

**~o0o~**

A little after 8.30PM, had Bella been sober and awake, she might have heard the apartment door open and seen Edward appear, looking tired and a little dishevelled. Spotting Bella's laptop open on the coffee table he walked over to the sofa, at which point her sleeping form was revealed to him, soft little snores escaping her as she slept.

A smile crept over his face until he saw the half empty bottle of vodka on the table, next to the dregs of her drink and a cereal bowl containing a puddle of water. The smile immediately disappeared, to be replaced with a frown which, when he nudged her shoulder, became an angry scowl.

"Bella! Wake up!" Edward shook her a little harder, but it was clear that she was intoxicated to the point of unconsciousness.

He walked round the sofa and crouched down, ready to force her awake and tear her off a strip for getting so drunk, but now that he was close up, he could see the tracks of her dried tears and her red and swollen eyelids, turning his scowl to puzzled concern. She'd been crying. A lot.

Edward reached out, gently gathering up a strand of hair which had stuck to Bella's tear-stained cheek and pushed it behind her ear. She looked so pale and vulnerable and he wondered what had upset her so much—it surely couldn't be because he had blown her out for dinner. He had expected to get home and still be able to settle down in front of the TV for a movie night, even if it was too late for pizza.

In truth, he felt a little guilty that he hadn't called her earlier, but the time had just escaped from him and before he knew it, it was nearly five 0'clock. Then Tanya called and insisted that she needed to talk to him. He had no idea how she knew he was in town, and he really didn't want to meet her, but she seemed pretty relaxed, despite the implied urgency of her request, and he couldn't see any harm in it—he didn't want to fall out with her if he could help it. When she had suggested he come over to her place he had resisted at first, but she explained she was going out later and wouldn't have time to meet for a drink and then go home to change, so he had reluctantly agreed. Just for the sake of keeping the peace he told her he could come round for half an hour and then would have to leave as he had plans.

When he got to Tanya's, however, it was clear that she had an alternative agenda. She had a fancy meal prepared, saying she'd changed her mind about going out and why didn't he join her for dinner. He had tried to get out of it, but couldn't come up with an adequate excuse, so in the end decided it would make life easier just to agree—he really didn't want to tell her he was planning on a pizza and movie night with Bella. While she was in the kitchen, he texted Bella with an excuse he hoped would placate her and left it that he would be a bit late and to eat without him.

Returning his phone to his inside jacket pocket, which he then slipped off and draped over the back of a chair, he went to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later as Tanya was just pouring some wine. She smiled up at him, handing him a glass.

"This is just like old times, darling," she said, quickly clinking her own glass against his.

Edward winced. "Not really, Tanya. I mean, it all smells great and it's nice of you to offer me dinner, but I think we both know there's no going back to the way things were," Edward told her, his voice soft but firm.

Tanya pursed her lips for a moment, a frown trying hard to mar the rigidity of her brow, merely succeeding in making her look slightly constipated.

"Oh, Edward, don't spoil it. Let's just relax and enjoy the food, shall we?" she insisted, no trace of bitterness or upset in her voice.

Edward smiled, pleased that she was being so reasonable. "Fair enough, Tan, but I can't stay long—"

Tanya laughed, which sounded forced to Edward's ears. "Good God, Edward, you've just got here and we haven't even sat down for dinner—don't start talking about leaving already!" she exclaimed, putting her glass down and walking back into the kitchen, effectively silencing him. Edward shook his head in resignation and pulled out a chair at the table.

She returned with the food and they began to eat, with Tanya pretty much driving all the conversation. But the food was good, and after a couple of glasses of wine, with Tanya keeping things light, Edward began to relax.

A little over an hour later, unable to press any more food or wine on Edward, it was clear to him that Tanya was starting to get a little desperate as she flailed around for reasons to keep him there.

Finally, he stood and pulled his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Tanya, I really need to go. I'm not sure what the point of this was—"

Without warning, she launched herself at him, curling her fingers into his hair and pulling him towards her as her lips sought his.

Caught unaware, Edward found himself with his mouth pressed to hers, although he would have hesitated to call it a kiss, seeing as there was no interaction on his part at all.

Scraping her nails painfully across his scalp, she let her hands fall to the lapels of his jacket, which she gripped hard.

"Edward, please," she breathed against his lips, as he pulled away from her.

"Tanya, don't do this," Edward gasped, grabbing her wrists and trying to pull her hands off him.

She relaxed slightly against him, loosening her hold until he let go of her hands, only to grab his shirt with one hand, whilst palming his groin with the other.

"Jesus, Tanya—stop, for fuck's sake!" he cried out, sharply knocking her hand away from his unresponsive cock and stepping back quickly.

"Edward, please, I'm begging you," she wailed, her eyes a little wild as she stepped towards him, her hands held out in supplication. "We were so good together, why are you doing this to me?"

Edward clasped his fingers around her wrists again, holding her in place. He might have felt a little sorry for her, had he not been somewhat disturbed by the sight of her rather crazed eyes set in an otherwise immobile and expressionless face.

"Tanya, you need to calm down. Look, I'm sorry you feel this way, but come on, you must know it'd run its course." Edward tried to keep his voice low and even, but as Tanya kept trying to close in on him, he became just a little desperate himself—to get the fuck out of there.

Tanya's blue eyes turned flinty, her mouth turning down. "Run its course? What do you mean, run its course? You never talked like this before that… that _whore_ turned up last week."

"Just stop right there, Tanya, before you say something you'll regret," Edward shot back, his voice taking on a menacing edge.

"Ha, like I'd regret anything I said about that manipulative little slut!"

"Tanya, I'm warning you—"

"I think you lied to me in London, Edward; and if you weren't fucking her then, you sure as hell wanted to. Got a taste for a nice piece of jail-bait ass, have you?" she snarled, her tone bitter.

Edward's look of concern disappeared in an instant as rage engulfed him.

"You better watch your mouth, Tanya. I warned you before, if I find out you said anything like that outside these walls or to a third party, I promise you this…" Edward took a step back towards her, and this time Tanya took note of the edge to his voice and the black fury on his face, fear flickering in her eyes as she finally backed away from him. "If you fuck with me, I will ruin you, do you understand me?"

Edward towered over her, his voice full of venom, and Tanya gasped at the anger she had unleashed.

"I'm sorry, Edward, you know I would never—"

"You better not, Tanya. Heed my warning!" Edward spat, before backing off, finally.

"I'm leaving now. I'm sorry it's come to this. I had hoped we could remain friends, but that doesn't seem like a realistic prospect now. Goodbye."

Edward turned away from the distraught woman and pulled open the door. He didn't look back when he heard a strangled sob behind him, a little surprised at how unmoved he felt.

And now, after the shit-storm with Tanya, he arrived home to find Bella passed out in a drunken stupor when he'd been looking forward to chilling with her and forgetting the fuckery that had passed between him and his ex.

Something had clearly upset her deeply, and he would have to try and find out tomorrow, but right now, he needed to put the comatose girl to bed and make sure she had some water and Tylenol for the morning. To that end, he slid his hands underneath her and pulled her up into his arms, holding her close to his chest. He glanced down at her for a second and then made his way to her room where he laid her gently on the bed. He pulled off her remaining flip-flop, the other one having fallen off in the living room, and pulled a sheet over her. He then went and got the water and pills, before closing her bedroom door softly and going to his study.

He shook off his jacket, retrieving his BlackBerry, before tossing the garment over the back of a chair. He then sat down behind his desk and pressed the button to wake his phone, frowning when he realised it had been turned off, which he didn't remember doing. Immediately, he could see that there was a message from Bella from earlier in the evening, which would have come in while he was at Tanya's and he clicked on it.

*Wel duck u shithwsf*

"What?!" Edward was utterly nonplussed. _What the fuck is going on in that girl's head?!_

He started to scroll through to see if she had called him, but just as he started to look, the phone went off and a familiar name popped up on the screen. His first instinct was to ignore it, but he hated the way things had been left. He pressed 'Accept.'

"Tanya."

"Oh my God, Edward, I didn't think you'd pick up… thank you so much for taking my call... I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into me, please, please forgive me, I didn't mean any of it, I'm so, so sorry, Edward, please—"

"Tanya, slow down, take a breath." Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm sorry, but you must know it's over. I think it's best if we just stay away from each other, at least until we think we can be civil—"

"Oh, Edward, please, you don't mean that. We should talk, I'm sure we can sort this out, it's not too late—"

"Tanya, stop. We're done, surely you must see that. Now, I'm tired, it's been a very long couple of days, and I've had enough drama and angst to last me for some considerable time. Go to bed, get some sleep—that's what I'm going to do."

"But, Edwar—"

"Goodnight, Tanya." And with that he turned his phone off and threw it down on his desk. Rubbing his temples, he could feel the start of a headache coming on and, despite the fact that it was still only just after 9.00PM, he decided to go to bed. He'd had enough for one day and all he wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about everything until tomorrow.

**~o0o~**

**Wednesday 30 March 2011**

The following morning, Edward was up early but decided to work from home, as he was keen to get to the bottom of what was going on with Isabella.

He went for a workout in the basement gym, spending an hour doing weights and resistance exercises, before returning to the apartment to shower and get breakfast. After his workout, he had quite an appetite, so started preparing eggs and bacon. It wasn't as nice as the bacon you got in England, but it definitely filled a hole, teamed with buttered whole wheat toast and freshly squeezed orange juice – the English may have fantastic bacon, but their orange juice never tasted as good as the stuff you got here at home.

Finishing off with a second round of toast, he then stuck his dirty plate in the dishwasher and poured himself a second cup of hot, strong coffee.

Just as he was walking out of the kitchen to head to his study, he nearly walked straight into a yawning Bella, scratching her head and still wearing the clothes he'd put her to bed in the night before.

"Fuck!" she cried, rocking back on her heels, and flailing her arms out to keep her balance. Instinctively, Edward reached out with his spare hand and grabbed hold of one of her cartwheeling arms to steady her.

"Hey," he smiled, but she merely wrenched her arm from his grip and gave him a filthy look.

"Fuck you, Edward," she snapped, flouncing past him to the kitchen counter as he looked after her with incredulous eyes.

As she filled the kettle, he put his coffee down on the breakfast bar and walked back into the kitchen area.

"You wanna tell me what your problem is? And why you were drunk off your ass last night on my vodka—which you know is out of bounds?" Edward demanded.

Bella ignored him, switching the kettle on and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

"Bella, please stop being childish and tell me what the fuck's going on," Edward barked, his patience wearing thin.

"I don't feel well, I'm going back to bed," Bella told him quietly, desperately trying to control the tremble in her voice. Abandoning the kettle, she turned and walked back out of the kitchen, making sure she gave Edward a wide berth so that he couldn't grab hold of her again.

"All right, but this discussion is not finished, young lady." Edward looked around but she had already disappeared back to her room.

**~o0o~**

Edward spent the next two hours working in his study, finally emerging when his stomach started to rumble. He frowned when he saw from the crumbs on the counter and the dirty cup and plate that Bella had clearly returned for breakfast.

Bypassing the kitchen he went to her room, knocking lightly on the door. When he received no answer he knocked again, a little harder, still without a response. Losing patience, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it, half expecting it to be locked, but the door opened easily and he peered in, realising immediately that Bella was not there.

Frowning he went into the room anyway, pushing open the bathroom door, and then the closet, before turning and going back to the living area. After five minutes' fruitless searching, it was clear that Bella was not in the apartment, and neither had she left him a note to say where she was going.

Returning to his study he grabbed his phone and called her number, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Like déjà-fucking-vu," he muttered angrily as he waited for the tone. "Isabella, it's me, where the fuck are you? I thought we'd gotten past this shit. Call me."

He pressed 'End Call' and then looked up Rose's number.

"Hey, it must be nice to be the boss and not bother coming into work."

"Shut up, Rose. Is Bella with you?" Edward snapped.

Realising immediately that there was a problem and that this was not the time to be flippant, Rose dropped the attitude.

"I'm sorry, Edward, no. I haven't heard from her since Monday night. Why?"

Edward sighed. "Shit, Rose, something upset her last night while I was at… while I was out, and when I got home she was blind drunk. And now she's just up and disappeared while I was in my study—not a word, no note, nothing."

"And don't tell me, her phone's going straight to voicemail." It was a statement more than a question.

"Yeah exactly. I've left a message, but I just don't understand what's going on, why she's behaving like this. Everything was fine on Monday."

"So what happened Tuesday?" Rose asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all. I left her a note to say we should have a quiet night in and that I'd call her. But you know how crazy it was yesterday, and I just didn't get time to call, and I had to text her to say I'd been held up and she should go ahead and eat and I'd see her later."

"And she was okay about that?"

"Yes… well, I didn't actually speak to her, but… well, I assumed she was. But when I got home at 8.30 she was completely shit-faced on vodka and…" Edward paused, not sure he wanted to say anymore, but Rose wasn't letting him get away with that.

"And, Edward? What? Tell me!"

He sighed again. "And she'd been crying, I mean really weeping, dried tears on her face, swollen eyes—she was a mess."

"So what happened then? Did she wake up?"

"Christ no, she was fucking comatose. I had to pick her up and put her to bed. Then this morning she's all moody-teenager, not talking to me. She went back to bed and I went into the study, and now she's gone."

"So did she call you last night? Where were you, anyway?"

_Jesus, why does Rose have to be so fucking tenacious?!_

"Nowhere. I told her I had a client dinner. End of story."

"A client dinner? What client?"

"No one you know, okay? It was a last-minute thing I arranged myself."

"Ohh-kaay. So what's his name? Shouldn't I add him to my database? Did you-"

"For fuck's sake, Rose, forget the fucking client! What am I going to do about Bella?"

Rose was taken aback by the desperate edge to Edward's voice, which seemed to be bordering on hysteria.

"Okay, okay, calm down, Edward. I'm sure she's just gone shopping or something—probably decided to spend a load of your money. Sounds to me like she's just sulking because you blew her out and she'll be back when she's finished punishing your bank balance."

Rose was pretty sure there was more to this than Bella just throwing a hissy fit because Edward went to dinner with a client—and she was very suspicious of that element too. Even when he was in London, Edward always told her if he was taking a client for dinner. If it was a new client, he made sure she had all their details, either by contacting her directly or getting Kate to do it, so whoever the hell he had dinner with last night, she was pretty sure it wasn't a client.

"You think, Rose?" Edward asked her, sounding a lot calmer and even a little hopeful.

"Sure. You'll see, she'll be home soon, laden with bags and looking glossy after a couple of hours at the beauty salon," she told him, hoping it was true.

"Okay, I guess you're right," he responded, not sounding entirely convinced. He sighed, but when he spoke again, he seemed a little more upbeat.

"Okay, well thanks, Rose. Sorry to sound like such a pillock. Maybe I'll make a reservation at The Modern for this evening, what do you think?"

Rose laughed. "Pillock, Edward? Where do you get these words from? Maybe you've been spending too much time in England! And I think The Modern is a fantastic restaurant and she'll love it, but after a day of shopping I doubt she'll want to come back uptown again. What were you supposed to be doing last night?"

"Oh, nothing—just pizza and a movie at home."

"Well, why don't you do that tonight? Stay home, talk to her, find out why she was so upset and put it right."

"Yeah, okay… yeah, thanks Rose, that's probably a good idea."

"No problem, Edward, it's why you pay me the big bucks, and why you're going to give me a big, fat bonus at Christmas," she deadpanned.

Edward laughed. "Hmm, let's see if you're right, first. _Then_ we can talk money."

Rose hoped she was right, but knew there was more to this than Edward was telling her, so didn't press it.

"Why don't you give me Bella's number, Edward, and I'll give her a call too—maybe, if she turns her phone on, she'll be more likely to take a call from an unknown number than from you," she suggested.

Edward hated to admit it, but he had to agree with Rose. "Okay, I'll email it to you and you can try her later."

"So, if I do get hold of her, what do you want me to say?"

There was silence on the end of the line, and for a moment Rose wondered if Edward was still there.

"Edward?"

"Tell her to come home, Rose. I…" Edward pinched the bridge of his nose as he struggled to answer.

"What, Edward?" she asked him gently.

"Just tell her to come home."

Edward leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and palming his face with his spare hand.

"Okay, Edward. And if you hear from her, can you let me know?"

"Sure, of course. And Rose? Thanks for—"

"Don't thank me yet, Edward. If I talk to her and it turns out you've been a dick, I will make your life a misery. I like her, Edward, she's a good kid—but she is just a kid, and you have the power to hurt her—badly."

"I know, Rose," he conceded, rubbing his face and then sliding his hand up into his hair, which he gripped hard. "But I'm trying not to, you know?"

"Okay, I hear you. Look, all you can do now is wait for her to turn up and then, for Christ's sake, _talk_ to the girl."

"I will, I promise."

"Okay, I'll catch you later."

Edward hung up and put the phone on his desk, dragging both hands through his hair. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was 12.45 and he told himself that Bella was unlikely to get home much before three or four o'clock, so he decided to get some lunch and do some more work. He had two contracts he needed to go through, which would hopefully distract him for a couple of hours.

**~o0o~**

Just about the same time that Edward sat down at his desk with a salami and Swiss cheese sandwich and started reading the first contract, Bella was handing her credit card to the desk clerk at the Helmsley Hotel on Central Park South.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Huge thanks are due, as ever, to my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their support.

**WARNING**: Even more under-age drinking in this chapter (what a surprise!)

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"Just for one night, Miss Swan?" the Reservations clerk at the Helmsley on Central Park South asked the beautiful brunette in front of him, quickly assessing her casual yet expensive attire.

"Um, yes, for now, although I might need to stay another night," she replied, trying to sound more sure of herself than she felt.

Bella could see from the look the man gave her that he was a little suspicious, but she had just spent two hours being kneaded, waxed, buffed and polished, followed by a haircut and make-over, which had left her feeling a lot better than when she'd left the apartment, plus she knew the skilfully-applied cosmetics made her look older.

"Absolutely no problem, Miss Swan. Luggage?"

Bella smirked at the man. "Oh, I haven't bought it yet," she told him.

He smiled back at her. "Well, I'm sure you won't have any problems in that quest. Would you like me to call a personal shopper for you?"

"No, it's okay—although I might need some help when I get back," she laughed.

Up in her room, Bella plonked herself down on the bed and pulled her phone out of her bag. She debated for a moment and then turned it on.

The first voicemail, as expected, was from Edward—expletive strewn and demanding, as ever. She sighed, pressing '3' to delete the message.

The next one was from a number she didn't recognise, which turned out to be Rose.

"_Hi honey, it's Rose. Look, I know something's happened between you and Edward, and I know he can be a dick sometimes, but he's really worried about you. You should call him—or if you can't face speaking to him, call me… please."_

Bella stored the number but didn't call it. _Not yet_, she thought.

She checked her text messages next, of which there were several—angry ones from Edward, worried ones from Rose and blessedly jokey ones from Lauren and Jessica. She deleted all the ones from Edward without reading more than the first couple, and decided to respond to Rose later. Finally, she sent off a couple of quick texts to Jess and Lauren, just to let them know she was in New York and having fun—no point burdening them with her woes.

She then rummaged through the huge shoulder bag she'd chosen to bring with her, into which she'd stuffed some toiletries, including her toothbrush, plus a change of underwear, her comfy old Converse, her Kindle and her laptop, plus her passport. Removing most of the contents, leaving just her wallet, phone, key-card and Kindle, she jumped off the bed and headed out.

Back on the street, she made a beeline for Bloomingdales where she set about buying herself some clothes, including a rather beautiful Karen Millen strapless cocktail dress in palest pink, with stunning embroidery on the bodice and flared skirt, which came to about mid-thigh. She bought a pair of high-heeled Louboutin pumps and a satin clutch bag to go with it. Then she found a white, cowl-necked handkerchief top that tied together behind her, leaving her back completely exposed. This she teamed with a pair of skin-tight, stretchy black jeans and some peep-toed, strappy Jimmy Choos.

All in all, Bella spent a very happy three hours in the store—she didn't want to go to Fifth Avenue, just in case she bumped into Rose, or someone else from SP, and it was just easier to stay in Bloomingdales.

Her spa session and all the retail therapy were going a long way towards easing her massive sulk, or at least distracting her from the hurt she felt at what she considered to be Edward's betrayal. Rationally, she knew it was nonsense to think in those terms, but knowing this in her head did nothing to assuage the pain in her heart.

So she spent money—on clothes, shoes, bags, costume jewellery, a Kindle Fire, perfume, cosmetics and lingerie. By the time she'd finished, she'd spent nearly $5,000 and had about a dozen bags, and the store concierge was happy to get her a cab the couple of blocks to her hotel.

Back in her room, Bella showered and changed into the Karen Millen dress, touched up her make-up, and went down to the restaurant for an early dinner. Summoning up all her self-possession, aided by the confidence instilled by her beautiful clothes and 'fuck-me' shoes, she asked the maître d' for a table.

"Are you dining with anyone this evening, madam?" he asked.

"No, I'll be dining alone, thank you."

He nodded. "And are you staying in the hotel?"

"Oh, yes, room 641," she replied, fumbling for her key-card.

"That won't be necessary…uh," he glanced at his computer screen, "…Ms Swan?"

"Gosh, yes, that's me," Bella gushed, feeling her cheeks turn pink at her gaucheness.

The maître d' smiled, charmed by the beautiful girl, who was undoubtedly a little out of her depth. He snapped his fingers at a waiter, who quickly made his way over.

"Jared, please show Ms Swan to table 14." He smiled again at Bella. "Enjoy your evening, miss."

Bella thanked him and followed the waiter across the room to a small table for two next to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. He pulled out her chair for her, very happy to look down over her shoulder at the spectacular view of her breasts, which were displayed to maximum advantage by the boned bodice of her dress. Oblivious, Bella smiled as he came round to her side, thanking him softly.

He gave her a small bow and asked if she would like a drink, at which point Bella decided to test the theory that the clothes and make-up she wore made her look much older than her seventeen—nearly eighteen—years.

"Um, yes, I'll have a vanilla vodka and soda, please." She had decided that if they asked for ID, she would say she left it in her room and take it from there, but the waiter merely nodded and left her with the menu.

She pulled her Kindle out of her bag and flicked it on to where she was reading Sebastian Faulks' _Birdsong_, which was on her English Lit. reading list. When the waiter returned with her drink, she ordered the Bandera quail to start, followed by roasted sea bass, and to compliment her meal she ordered a glass of the Louis Jardot Pouilly Fuissé.

As she ate, she immersed herself in the book she was reading, remaining oblivious to the glances and even outright stares she was garnering, mostly from the men in the restaurant. It was relatively early and it wasn't that busy, and the beautiful brunette in the sexy dress stood out even more than she would normally have done.

Finally, as Bella ordered coffee, she became aware that someone was standing beside her table. Looking up, she expected to see the waiter, but instead was greeted by the sight of a stranger in an expensive looking dark suit, and shiny black shoes, his fair hair artfully gelled, and a warm smile playing across his blandly handsome face.

Bella just stared at him, unsure what he might want or what to say.

He grinned. "You'll have to excuse me, miss, I don't normally do this kind of thing, but I have been waiting for the most beautiful girl in the room to be joined by some Greek God of a companion for the last hour, and… well, either the man exists but is a fool of epic proportions to leave a girl like you on her own, or some kind of miracle has occurred and you're single and alone." He stopped talking, his eyes fixed on her.

Bella blinked and sat back in her chair, letting out a little huff of surprise.

"Crikey, that's some chat-up line!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, God, I think I may have died and gone to heaven—you're English as well?" her admirer gasped, clutching his hand to his chest theatrically.

Bella laughed. She couldn't help it. He was a nice looking guy, with an entertaining line, and the alcohol she had so far consumed was making her feel mellow and relaxed, and just a little bit giggly.

The man held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Riley; pleased to meet you."

Bella smiled and took his hand. "Hello, Riley, I'm Bella, and it's a pleasure to meet you, too."

Riley smiled back at the stunning brunette, wondering if his luck could possibly be this good. Still holding onto her hand, he brought it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, before finally releasing it.

"May I join you—I promise I'm not a stalker or an axe murderer," he grinned.

Bella looked at him speculatively, pulling on her bottom lip with her teeth, and making Riley glad he'd left his jacket buttoned up.

"Hmm, let's say you were a stalker or an axe murderer, you'd hardly admit it, so your statement is somewhat specious, is it not?" she asked, keeping a straight face.

His face fell as he realised she might not be particularly keen for him to sit with her.

But then, seeing his crestfallen expression, Bella took pity on him, letting a slow smile spread across her face.

"Oh, go on then, you've twisted my arm… but the slightest hint of an axe, and I'm out of here!" she laughed, and Riley nearly fell to his knees in gratitude to the Gods of random hotel hook-ups.

"I guess I deserved that," he admitted sheepishly as he dropped into the chair opposite her. Looking around, he caught the waiter's attention, ordering a scotch and water for himself and a dry white wine for Bella.

"So, Bella, are you here in New York on business or for pleasure?" he asked, fixing his eyes on her.

"Ah, now there's a question, Riley. It's not business, but neither is it really pleasure, so I'm not sure how to answer that."

"Well, that's a little cryptic, and a little mysterious. Care to explain?"

"Not really, if you don't mind." Bella looked down at the tablecloth and he was instantly annoyed with himself for making her uncomfortable.

Just at that moment, the waiter returned with their drinks, which gave Riley the chance to change the subject. When the waiter departed, he tried again.

"Is this your first visit to the Big Apple, Bella? Have you seen all the sights?"

Bella looked up, grateful to him for not pressing her. "Not my first visit, no, I was here about 18 months ago, but I didn't really get a chance to see very much, as it was a bit of a whirlwind trip. How about you, do you live here, Riley?"

"Yeah, I've got a place in SoHo."

Bella leaned forward a little, nodding, as Riley talked about his work, at a law firm on Madison Avenue, and his friends, interests, movies he liked and restaurants he recommended. It was all very light, and Bella encouraged him to talk about himself so that she didn't have to give too much away, and the time seemed to speed by.

Before she knew it, Riley was offering to pay for her dinner and suggesting they move to the lounge, or maybe a bar or club, and Bella found herself wanting to carry on. Riley was great company, sweet, attentive, and clearly very attracted to her. He didn't seem to have any agenda, he didn't flash hot and cold and he didn't lead her on then knock her back. But neither did he make her heart pound or her skin feel like it was on fire. He was nice... safe… unthreatening.

In other words, he wasn't Edward.

Before she'd left the apartment that morning, Bella had decided that she would go out of her way to meet someone tonight. She would put Edward out of her mind and move on. If they were going to stay in New York for the rest of the summer, Bella wanted some distraction, a life away from him, and maybe she would even give up her virginity to some nice guy who wanted her.

So when Riley made his suggestion, Bella agreed, wanting to have fun.

"There's a really nice place a couple of blocks over called the Monkey Bar—"

"No!" she exclaimed, then, when he gave her a surprised look, she explained. "I was there last night with some friends, so I'd like to go somewhere different."

"Okay, no problem. Do you want to stay around here or are you happy to go a little farther afield? I ask, because there's a terrific little bar in TriBeCa, The Bubble Lounge, which has great music and is really buzzing."

"That sounds great, let's go," Bella smiled.

She was aware that what she was doing was foolhardy in the extreme, but she was a little drunk and a lot pissed off with Edward, and she was determined to throw caution to the wind.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained._

They left the hotel and Riley hailed a cab to take them uptown. A short while later, they were squeezed into a small booth with two strangers across from them, and music thumping all around. Every now and then, Bella got up and danced, and Riley would either watch her, or leap up to fend off the predatory males who would descend on her the moment she started to gyrate provocatively.

The rest of the time, they talked—or shouted over the music—and Riley discovered that she made him laugh, and that he could make her laugh. He also discovered that he wanted her. Very badly. And that it would likely be the easiest thing in the world to fall in love with this bright, funny, breathtakingly beautiful girl.

As the night wore on and morphed into another day, Riley realised that Bella was pretty drunk and that he should probably get her back to her hotel.

He looked down at her, as she bopped in her seat to the music, head back, eyes closed. He put his hand to her cheek, sweeping the back of his fingers down over her jaw, feeling the silky smooth skin beneath his knuckles.

Bella opened her eyes and looked at him and he knew, in that moment, that if he didn't kiss her, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

So he did. He leaned down slowly, and when she didn't jerk away or try to stop him, he brushed his lips softly over hers.

To his great surprise, and unending gratitude, when he tried to pull away, she grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand, slid her other hand round the back of his neck and tugged him down to plant her lips on his. Unable to help himself, as her mouth opened slightly against his, he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue against her lower lip and then pushed it into her mouth.

Their need for air finally forced them to pull apart, and Bella grinned at him.

Smiling back, he kissed her again lightly before moving away from her, causing Bella to pout adorably.

"Bella, baby, I need to get you back to the hotel. It's 3.00AM and if we stay out any longer I think I might turn into a pumpkin."

He pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Either that, or I'll take you back to my place and ravish that delectable body of yours," he chuckled, only half joking.

"Ooh, I vote for option two," Bella crooned, burying her face in the crook of his neck and planting soft, wet kisses there.

Groaning softly, Riley fought to control his baser instincts. He really liked this girl—hell, he actually believed he might be falling in love with her—and there was no way he was going to treat her like a cheap tramp… even if he did have an erection you could hang towels on.

"Come on, baby, don't tempt me, please. Let's get you home."

Bella looked at him. _Home? I don't have a home._

The thought made her sad and she let him lead her out of the club and onto the street. It was a little quieter now, but they had no trouble getting a cab back to midtown, and fifteen minutes later, the two of them walked into the lobby of the Helmsley, Riley's jacket draped around Bella's shoulders.

Neither of them noticed the tall, thin brunette walking past the hotel as they'd emerged from their cab outside the hotel. The woman was holding hands with a slightly shorter, dark-haired man, and he looked askance at her when she stopped to watch Bella and Riley disappear inside, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Do you have your key, baby?" Riley asked softly.

She smiled at him, nodding, and he guided her into the lift and thence to her room.

At her door, Bella handed Riley the key-card, and he pushed it into the slot, waiting for the light to turn green and then depressed the handle to open the door.

"There you go, baby, back home, safe and sound," he said softly, brushing his lips against her cheek.

"Ahh, but it's not my home, Riley," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know that, babe, I just meant—"

Bella put her fingers over his mouth to stop him talking.

"I know what you meant. Don't go, Riley, stay with me… please," she beseeched him.

"Oh, Christ, Bella, don't do this to me—I'm only human and—"

"_Please_, Riley."

And he _was_ only human, so he gave in, because he wanted nothing more than to be naked with this girl and be inside her.

As soon as they entered the room, Bella made a beeline for her giant bag, clasping it to her chest before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving Riley standing awkwardly beside the bed. Finally, he sat down on the edge and picked up the remote control to turn the TV on.

In the bathroom, Bella haphazardly washed her face, removing most of her make up by the simple expedient of wiping it with one of the soft face clothes provided. She squirted an over-generous blob of toothpaste on her brush and scrubbed it haphazardly over her teeth for a couple of minutes, as she weaved around in front of the mirror, trying hard to keep her eyes fixed on one point.

She then pulled at the back zip of her dress, and, by some miracle, managed to get it down and off without falling on her arse. Standing there in just a pair of cream satin mini-briefs and her Louboutins, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small, white t-shirt, which she managed to pull over her head, although the arms proved a little challenging.

Finally covered up to her satisfaction, she pulled open the bathroom door and tottered back into the bedroom, kicking off her shoes as she went. Riley was still sitting on the bed and she flashed him a big, rather sloppy smile, climbing past him onto the bed and lying on her side to look at him.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he replied, smiling down at her.

"I'm a bit drunk, Riley. I'm sorry," she pouted.

"I know, baby, it's okay. I'll just leave," he said, turning the TV off and standing up.

Bella pushed herself up on one elbow.

"No, Riley, please—that's not what I meant… don't go," she begged, her lower lip trembling slightly.

Riley screwed his eyes shut and tipped his head back. This girl was killing him. She wanted him to stay. He wanted to stay. But there was no way he could have sex with her, it just wouldn't be right.

_Ah fuck, why can't I be one of those scumbag guys who wouldn't hesitate to fuck a drunk girl and then disappear?_

"Riley?" Bella's voice was tiny, barely audible.

He looked at her. "It's okay, baby, I won't leave," he sighed, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. "I'll just…" he said, pointing at the bathroom, and Bella nodded.

He took a piss, then washed his hands and borrowed her toothbrush, before stripping down to his boxers, hoping she wouldn't notice his ever-present boner. However, when he slipped back into the bedroom his concern became academic, as it seemed she was already asleep—a fact he discovered when he slid under the covers next to her. Reaching over to the bedside switch, he turned out all the lights in the room and then turned to lie on his back. As soon as he did, Bella moved over and curled her little body into his side, where she stayed for the rest of the night.

**~o0o~**

**Thursday 31 March 2011 ~ the early hours of the morning**

Downtown, in his apartment, Edward stared out of his enormous picture windows, watching the sun rise over the Jersey Shore. His hair was in disarray, his clothes crumpled and sweat-stained and his eyes bloodshot, dark shadows already forming beneath them.

He hadn't slept all night, his earlier concern quickly morphing to anger, then worry, before settling on outright terror that something had happened to Bella. He had left voicemails and sent at least half a dozen texts, begging her to call. As the hours passed and his messages went unanswered, he became frantic, imagining every horrifying scenario that could possibly occur.

At nine o'clock, he had gone to her room and looked around more thoroughly, noticing that her toothbrush was missing. He had no way of knowing what, if any, clothing had been taken, but it seemed like her dresser drawers had been rummaged through and not closed properly, as if she had packed a few items in a hurry. He tried not to think about the way he had lingered on her underwear drawer, taking a moment to fondle the tiny, delicate, silk and lace garments.

At ten o'clock, he had called Rose again, who confirmed she had heard nothing in response to her messages, but that it was probably too early to worry about Bella.

At eleven o'clock, he started drinking.

At midnight, he regretted the drinking, because his inclination was to get his car from the underground car park and drive around the streets of Manhattan looking for her.

At one o'clock, he called the police. He told them his niece was missing. That she'd been gone since that morning. That she was from England and didn't know the city. That she was only seventeen and he was worried about her.

The police asked if he and Bella had argued. He hesitated too long before answering in the negative, and he knew they knew he was lying. They told him teenage girls do this kind of thing all the time. That she was probably just blowing off steam with some friends. That she would soon be home. That there was nothing they could do until she'd been missing for 24 hours.

Edward almost wept with frustration.

"What friends?" he yelled. "She has no friends in New York. Twenty four hours? She could be raped and murdered by then," he cried.

He berated the police, ranting about his tax dollars and what was the point if they were going to wait until she was assaulted or abducted or worse before they did anything.

The officer asked him if she was really his niece.

Edward put the phone down on him.

Three o'clock in the morning.

_Bella—where the fuck are you? Please, please, God, let her be all right._

Edward looked down at the glass in his hand, a little surprised that it was empty—again. He turned away from the window and went to refill it, but changed his mind, instead getting himself a drink of water.

Back in the living room, he dropped heavily onto the sofa and laid his head against the back cushions. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but was desperate not to fall asleep in case she called or came back and he missed her. However, his fatigue was such that it overwhelmed him, and a mere few minutes later he had fallen into a troubled sleep, punctuated by gruesome and heart-breaking dreams.

He woke with a start when his dream of falling jerked him out of his subconscious state, and he looked in horror at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. Checking his watch, he was appalled to discover it was gone 8.00AM and he immediately picked up his phone to call Rose.

As he waited for her to answer, he got up to go look in Bella's room, just in case she had come back and he hadn't heard her, but as he suspected, the room was empty, the bed unused. Even though he had expected it, he couldn't deny the crushing disappointment and worry he felt upon this discovery.

"Edward?"

"Rose, hi," he greeted her quietly, his voice hoarse from worry, tiredness and drinking.

"Hmm, I take it from your tone that she hasn't come home?"

Edward was sitting at Bella's dressing table, absently toying with some silver hoop earrings, when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

He groaned.

"Edward, what is it?" Rose cried.

"Nothing, sorry—I just saw myself in the mirror and I look like shit," he sighed, defeat clear in his voice.

"Christ, Edward, you dick—you scared the shit out of me for a minute!" Rose declared, irritated.

Ignoring her comment, Edward rubbed his face, feeling the stubble from a day's beard growth scratch against his palm.

"Where is she, Rose?" he whispered.

"I don't know, Edward, I wish I did," she replied quietly, her irritation dissolving as she absorbed the knowledge that she was no longer talking to a man who had been burdened with the responsibility of his friend's daughter—no, this was the desperate plea of a man who cared deeply for a woman.

"I'll never forgive myself if anything's happened to her," he told her in hushed, broken tones.

"Edward, it's not your faul—"

"It is my fault, Rose… I was… _shit_, I had dinner with Tanya," he finally got out, his voice pained.

"What? What do you mean, you had dinner with Tanya—when?"

"Tuesday night. She called, said it was important, said she had something she needed to discuss with me. I didn't want to go, but she pretended she had a date later and just needed me to call in for half an hour…" he trailed off.

"You lied about the client." Edward winced, but said nothing. "Go on."

So Edward told her everything—how Tanya had dinner ready, that it was an obvious set-up, that she was all over him.

"What else, Edward—there's something you're not telling me," Rose demanded.

"Jesus, Rose, sometimes I think you're a goddamned witch." Edward sighed, rubbing his temple, where the mother of all headaches was brewing.

"You better hope I'm not a witch, Edward, because if you've done something to make that girl go off the rails, I swear I will put a curse on you that will make your balls shrivel and your dick fall off."

Edward didn't laugh—it was all together too feasible that Rose could—and would—do exactly that.

"Earlier, when I was trying to figure out where Bella might have gone I was checking my phone. She rang me while I was at Tanya's—the call lasted 2 minutes and 43 seconds, but there was no voicemail. I'd gone to the bathroom after I arrived and I think that's when she must have called… I think Tanya picked it up… which means Bella knows I lied about the client and that I was with Tanya… God knows what that bitch said to her to piss her off so much. Christ, Rose, it's a mess, and if something terrible has happened to her…" Edward couldn't get the words out, it was too awful to contemplate.

"Don't go down that road, Edward. Okay, you fucked up, but I guess it's not totally your fault—but you shouldn't have lied about Tanya. I'm not sure I understand why you did that, but what's done is done. I'm still optimistic she's just holed up somewhere, sulking—and I'm mad as hell with her that she hasn't called.

"Look, Edward, there's nothing we can do for the moment, except keep trying her phone. If she hasn't turned up or called by mid-day, then I guess you have to call the cops. Could she have gone back to London—do you know if she took her passport?"

Edward sat up, suddenly alert, and looked around the room.

"Shit, Rose, I never thought of that. I didn't see her passport when I was looking through her stuff, so she might have it with her. I'll call her friends at Roedean and see if they know anything."

"Okay, good idea. Call me if you have any news."

Rose hung up, and immediately dialled Bella's number again, with no success. She'd come into the office early in order to get some work done while it was quiet, but this whole situation was a total distraction.

She looked up when Angela stuck her head round her door.

"Hi Rose—I'm just going down to Joe's, you want a coffee?"

"Yeah, I guess, thanks Ang."

Angela frowned and came all the way into the office, shutting the door behind her.

"What's wrong, Rose—is it Emmett?"

"What? No, no. It's just… ahh, shit, Ang…" She shook her head and leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands on top of her head.

Angela's face clouded with concern. "Rose, tell me, what's happened?"

Rose sighed, wondering if she should tell her friend, but deciding that she could really use her advice right now.

"It's Bella, she's gone missing," she blurted.

Angela looked confused. "What do you mean, missing? When did this happen—I just saw her last night—"

Rosalie shot forward in her chair. "What the fuck, Angela—where did you see her? Are you sure it was Bella? Who was she with…?"

Angela held up her hand.

"Calm down, Rose. I was with Ben and we were on our way home from his dad's sixtieth. We hadn't intended to stay out so late, but it was such a good party…" Angela caught Rose's bitch-brow. "Sorry, I digress. Anyway, it was about three in the morning and we decided to walk up to the Helmsley because it's easier to get a taxi round there and I saw Bella get out of a cab with some guy and go into the hotel—"

Rose jumped up and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, practically running for the door.

"Thanks, Ang. If Edward calls, tell him I had to go out… Do _NOT_ tell him what you just told me, okay?"

"Ohh-kaay, Rose, if you're sure—"

"I'm sure, Ang."

And with that she was out the door and running for the elevator.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks to MauiGirl60 for being an absolute brick, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar for their continued support. Thanks to you lovely people, who I'd like to invite round to my house for drinks and nibbles, because you are all so brilliant. I'm struggling now to keep up with review responses, but please know that I am utterly floored by how positive and lovely your comments are and I savour every single one, even the simple smiley faces.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Bella groaned, unsure if the pounding she could hear was inside her head or outside the room. As consciousness beckoned, it became clear that it was a little of one and a lot of the other. Raising herself up on her elbow, she looked over her shoulder towards the door and immediately became aware of another body in the bed with her. Turning onto her back she looked over at a sleeping Riley, his fair hair standing up in tufts, a slight frown clouding his features.

The pounding got louder, distracting her from the man beside her, and she thought she could hear the muffled sound of someone calling her name. With a sinking feeling she realised it was coming from the other side of the door.

As she pushed herself into a sitting position, Riley made a soft, sort of snorting noise and turned towards her, his morning wood pressing against her thigh.

"Hmmmh, Bellllla," he croaked, his sleep-caked eyes opening slowly, one at a time. He started to snuggle closer, just as the pounding on the door grew to a crescendo.

"_Bella! Open this fucking door right now, or I'll break the fucker down!"_

"Oh, God," Bella moaned, easing herself out of the bed and padding across the floor to the door. "Hang on, I'm coming," she called out, her voice husky with sleep and hangover.

Behind her, Riley was now fully conscious and sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Who the hell is that?" he moaned, wishing whoever it was would just shut up and go away.

Bella ignored him, peering through the peephole to find a furious looking Rosalie, who was still banging on the door. Behind Rose, Bella saw the door of the opposite room open and a paunchy, middle-aged guy in a white hotel robe peer out, shouting at Rose to shut up.

Barely glancing over her shoulder, Rose told the man to fuck off or come tell her to shut up to her face, to which his response was to duck back inside his room and shut his door.

"Bella, I know you're there, so open the goddamned door _right now!_" Rose yelled, and Bella finally gave in, grasping the handle and pulling open the door.

Without another word, Rose pushed past Bella into the room, stomping straight over to the bed.

"I don't know who you are, buster, and, quite frankly, I don't much care. This girl's seventeen years old and if you aren't out of this room in the next 3 minutes, I'm calling the cops to bust your ass for statutory rape! _Capisce?_"

Riley stared wide-eyed at the blonde hellion standing beside the bed, threatening to rain all kinds of shit down upon his head. Swallowing audibly, he leaned forward to look around her at Bella, who was frozen to the spot in the middle of the room, a similarly appalled expression on her face.

"B-Bella? What's she talking about?" he asked, his voice a little desperate, as he could see his dream girl slipping away from him.

"Don't fucking talk to her, dickwad! Two minutes and counting!"

He looked back to Rose, her face implacable.

Shaking his head, he threw off the covers and slid his legs off the bed.

"I'll get dressed in the bathroom, if that's okay with you."

"Here, there, I don't give a fuck, just get dressed and haul ass!"

"Rose, please, it's not his fault." Bella finally spoke up from behind them and Rose swung round to face her.

"Oh, so _now_ you want to talk! It's a pity you didn't give us the benefit last night, Bella. You," she swung back to Riley, who had paused on his way to the bathroom, "what did I tell you, get dressed, get out! And you," she said, turning back to Bella, "get some clothes on as well and get your stuff together, we're leaving!"

Bella frowned, pissed off at being shouted at, especially when she had such a ghastly headache. Rosalie was not her mother.

As she watched Riley gather up his clothes and head to the bathroom, she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Look here, Ro—"

Rose threw her hand up, palm facing out in a 'halt' gesture.

"Stop right there, Swan. Don't think I'm above giving you a slap, because I'm not. Now _GET SOME_ _FUCKING CLOTHES ON!"_

Bella took a step back, her eyes wide, recognising at last that Rosalie was not to be argued with at this point.

Turning away, she started gathering up her clothes, just as Riley emerged from the bathroom, having got dressed in double-quick time.

He edged around Rose, as one would around a tethered, snarling dog, approaching Bella cautiously. Rosalie watched him with eyes narrowed, but said nothing.

"Bella, I—"

"Oh, Riley, I'm so sorry," Bella interrupted him, her voice full of contrition. She went to throw her arms around his neck, but he gently caught her wrists and held her at arm's length.

"So it's true, you really are only seventeen." It was a statement rather than a question.

She looked at him, tears making her eyes glassy. "I'll be eighteen in September," she whispered, painfully aware of how pathetic she sounded.

Riley smiled sadly, releasing one of her wrists in order to reach out and brush away a stray tear which had escaped.

"It was a joy to meet you, Bella. I hope you find what you're looking for, truly I do." He leaned in and kissed her lightly on her forehead. Pulling away from her, he turned, straightening his back and pulling himself up to his full height, which was slightly less than Rose in her high heels.

"Nothing happened last night, I want you to know that. And I'm not saying that because Bella's underage, or because I'm scared of what that might mean for me. I don't even care if you think I'm the kind of guy that would take advantage of a girl who's had too much to drink. But I do care that you think Bella's that kind of girl, who would sleep with a guy she's just met."

"You know nothing about what kind of girl Bella is," Rose tersely pointed out.

"Maybe not, but I'd hazard a guess that you don't either."

Rose nodded once, unwilling to argue the point, and accepting his word that he hadn't had sex with Bella. He held her gaze for a moment, nodding back, and then turned towards the door.

"Goodbye, Bella," he said softly over his shoulder, before opening the door and leaving the room.

Bella let out a loud, strangled sob, and dropped to her knees. She threw her hands up over her face and began to cry in earnest, and Rose finally relented.

Kneeling down beside Bella, she put her arms round her and pulled her head onto her shoulder. Bella immediately wrapped her own arms around Rosalie's waist and let all her sorrow and remorse flow out of her.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Rose," she sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay now, shhh." Rose stroked Bella's hair, rocking her from side to side until her tears began to let up, and she was able to calm sufficiently for Rose to let her go and help her to her feet.

"Come on, I'll help you get your stuff together. Why don't you take some clean clothes in the bathroom so you can freshen up and get dressed?" She bent her knees to catch Bella's eye, smiling a little.

Bella nodded. "My bag's in the bathroom, I'll be… I, uh, won't be long," she told her quietly, turning away and leaving Rose on her own in the bedroom.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind Bella, Rose walked over to the French doors, pulled them open and stepped out on the balcony overlooking Central Park. She retrieved her phone from her bag and hit the speed-dial.

It barely rang once before being answered.

"Rose!"

"Everything's okay, Edward, I found her," Rose told him quickly, not wanting to prolong his agony.

"What?! You found her? Oh, thank fucking Christ, Rose! Where are you? Where did you find her? Is she okay? What was she doing?"

"Calm down, Edward! She's fine, we're at the Helmsley, which is where she spent the night. She's just washing up in the bathroom and then we're going to get a cab to your place."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"She's at the Helmsley?" Edward's voice was now deadly calm.

"Yeah, she checked in yesterday afternoon," Rose confirmed, a little perplexed by Edward's sudden composure.

"Who else is there, Rose?" Edward asked coolly.

Rose sighed. "No one else is here, Edward. Bella checked in, under her own name, using her credit card. She went shopping, had dinner and spent the night here. End of story." Rose knew some of the details, which she'd garnered from the desk clerk earlier. She had no intention of telling Edward about Riley.

"Edward?" Again, there was a long silence from the other end.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a monotone. "How long will you be?"

"Uh, not long. As soon as Bella comes out of the bathroom, we just need to gather up all her shopping bags and then we'll check out and get a cab. About forty minutes?"

"I'll see you then." And the line went dead.

"Shit," Rose whispered, just as the bathroom door opened and Bella emerged in t-shirt, jeans and her Converse. She'd scrubbed her face of the remnants of the make-up she had failed to remove the night before, which had been smudged across her face earlier, and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, making her look like the teenager she was.

Rose stepped back into the room and wordlessly started gathering up all the shopping bags dotted about the room. Bella glanced at her a couple of times, but kept quiet. When they had everything, they left the room and went downstairs to check out. Fifteen minutes later they were in a cab heading downtown to Edward's apartment.

Rose broke the silence once they were on the move. "You should know, Bella, that Edward was really upset yesterday when you disappeared, and he was distraught last night and this morning."

Bella looked out the window, saying nothing.

Rosalie sighed. "But you should also know that that was before I found you. Now, he's boiling mad, and you should be prepared to eat some major humble pie."

Bella turned her head to look at Rose. "He can go fuck himself, Rose." She returned her gaze to the scenery passing by her window.

"Come on, Bella—have you any idea how worried—"

Bella suddenly turned her whole body towards Rose.

"I don't give a monkey's toss, Rose. Do you know where he was on Tuesday night? When he'd promised to come home and have dinner with me. When he _lied_ to me about having dinner with a client? Do you, Rose?"

Rose nodded. "He was at Tanya's," she confirmed.

"Oh, so he told you. Well, that was nice of him. Did you know on Tuesday, Rose?"

"No, he told me this morning, before anyone knew where you were. He was so worried, Bella—really scared that something bad had happened to you. I've never seen him so upset."

Bella just shook her head, sitting straight and crossing her arms over her chest.

Rose watched her for a moment before speaking again.

"It's not like you're dating, or anything," she said quietly, trying not to sound judgemental. "I mean, strictly speaking, he's perfectly entitled to see who he wants, and Tanya is his girlfriend—"

"He fucking _LIED TO ME, ROSE!"_ Bella cried, dashing away tears and looking away.

"I know, honey, but the stunt you pulled was way out of proportion. He called the police, you know. To report you missing."

Bella looked around quickly to see if Rose was winding her up, but saw immediately that she was being serious. She huffed and turned away again. "Whatever."

Rose sighed. "Well, just so you know, he doesn't know about your friend who stayed with you last night, and I'd advise you not to enlighten him."

Bella was saved from a response, and Rose from further conversation—or lack thereof—when the cab pulled up outside Edward's apartment building.

Bella immediately climbed out and went round to the back, where the driver had opened the trunk. She started pulling bags out as the doorman emerged to help, taking everything from her and gathering up the rest.

The three of them headed into the building and made their way up to Edward's penthouse, the escalating numbers on the elevator read-out matching Bella's increasing trepidation as they ascended.

At the top, they emerged and Rose handed the doorman a $10 bill and told him they could manage from there—she did not want him to witness a scene, should one ensue. The man nodded his thanks and left them to it.

Just as the elevator doors pinged closed on him, the apartment door flew open and Edward stood before them, his face a stony mask.

He glanced briefly at Bella, before turning his gaze to Rose.

"I owe you Rose, big time. Thank you for bringing her home."

"No problem, Edward, I'm just glad I could help." She started to walk forward as if to enter the apartment, but Edward continued to block the way.

"Don't you need to get back to the office, Rose? It's bad enough I've had to take the last two days off, I can't afford to have you spending any more time away." He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes, which were the colour of burnished flint.

"Oh, well, I was just going to come in for a minute—"

Behind her, Bella shuffled forward, carrying all the bags.

"It's okay, Rose. I doubt he's going to hog-tie me and throw me in his secret dungeon," Bella remarked tiredly.

Edward's eyebrow shot up. "Don't fucking tempt me, Isabella." He stepped forward and grabbed the bags from her and then turned to go back in.

"Bella, are you sure you don't want me to come in?" Rose asked uncertainly.

"I'm sure, Rose, thanks." She looked around to where Edward had disappeared inside. "I think he and I need to talk, and this might be our only opportunity."

Rose frowned. "Why would it be your only opportunity?"

Bella laughed humourlessly. "Because Edward's got other fish to fry and other priorities. I'm pretty sure I come well down on that list, so I better strike while the iron's hot."

"Okay, I guess. But you are seriously underrating how much he cares about you, honey, trust me." She leaned in and gave Bella a quick hug, then turned to summon the elevator, while Bella went to go in. Just as she was about to close the door, something seemed to occur to her.

"Rose?"

The elevator pinged behind Rose as she turned to look at Bella.

"How did you know where to find me?"

Rose smiled. "Angela saw you going into the hotel last night—or should I say, this morning—with Riley. She was out with her boyfriend and was passing by just as you arrived. She said you were pretty drunk."

"Yeah, I suppose I was. Okay, I'll see you soon, Rose—unless Edward decides to ground me for life. And… uh, thanks, Rose… I think." She gave her a half-hearted smile and went in.

And slammed straight into Edward, who was standing just inside the door.

She let out a small 'oooph' noise and looked up in surprise.

Looking down at her, Edward's face was an impassive mask.

Bella looked away, stepping back and then around him. It felt like turning her back on a homicidal maniac with a loaded gun, and she could feel his eyes boring into her back as she walked away from him into the living room.

Making her way to the kitchen, she got herself a glass and filled it with water, drinking deeply. Filling it again, she turned, only to find Edward standing about a foot away, making her yelp with surprise.

"Jesus, Edward, are you just trying to see how many times you can scare the shit out of me?" she gasped, holding her hand flat against her chest.

Edward regarded her silently for a moment.

"It's not a nice feeling, is it, Isabella, to have the shit scared out of you?"

Bella put her glass down, clasped the counter behind her with both hands, and looked down at her feet. When Edward remained silent, she looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"Edward, I'm sor—"

"Who's Riley?" Edward interrupted, his voice low and deceptively mild.

Bella frowned with confusion.

_How the hell does he know about Riley?_

_Ahh, shit, he was in the hallway when I was talking to Rose._

Bella mentally cursed Rose for her indiscretion, after having told Bella not to say anything about Riley.

Closing her eyes for a second, she sighed and shook her head.

"I'd really rather not talk about it, Edward," she finally responded, hoping he would leave it alone, but knowing it was a forlorn hope.

"Who. Is. Riley?" he enunciated slowly. "It's a simple enough question, Isabella."

She pushed herself away from the kitchen counter and went to brush past him so she could escape to her room. She knew she was being childish and petulant, but she really couldn't face this right now.

Edward, of course, had other ideas.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, looking down at her balefully.

Eyes wide with surprise, Bella looked up at him, finally noticing just how tired and drawn he looked. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark shadows beneath them. They stood out in stark contrast to his skin, which was pale and sallow, except for his jaw, which was covered in two days' worth of stubble, whilst his hair stuck out every which way. The overall effect was to make him look both sickly and Byronic and just a little crazy, and Bella felt her heart clench with guilt and remorse.

"Just tell me one thing, then." His eyes bore into hers as his hand gripped her upper arm tighter, and all she could do was nod her acquiescence.

"Tell me you used a condom when you fucked him," he snarled and Bella gasped in horror, as she tried to free herself from his unyielding grip.

"I did not… I never… you _bastard!_" she cried, struggling frantically now to escape.

Edward suddenly dropped his hand away from her arm and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? Was he too drunk to get it up? How sad for you," he sneered.

Bella could feel tears threatening to spill and mentally harnessed her anger to stop her crying in front of him.

"How dare you?" she hissed.

"How dare I? I'll tell you how I dare, Isabella." Edward straightened up, his hands dropping to his sides, fists clenched, his anger palpable.

"I get home on Tuesday evening, expecting a quiet night in watching a movie with you, and you are completely shit-faced at 8.30PM. By the morning, despite the fact that _you_ were drunk the night before, _I_ seem to be the one in the doghouse. You then pack a bag and disappear without telling me you're leaving or where you're going and then you stay out all night, without calling anyone."

Edward's voice was getting louder and more passionate.

"Then, by some miracle, Rose finds you holed up in a hotel, with half of fucking Bloomingdales in bags. She didn't say if she found you alone, but I know you spent the night with a man. So who was he, Isabella? Someone you know, did you arrange to meet him, or was he just some random h00k-up?"

Bella stared at him, speechless. _He was home by half past eight? But he slept at Tanya's… didn't he?_

"… think you were one of those high-class whores that hangs around hotel bars?" Edward shouted.

"Wh-what?" Bella was struggling to get her head round what Edward had said earlier and what he was now yelling at her.

"I _said,_ Isabella, did he think you were a whore, on the prowl for a new meal ticket?" His voice dripped contempt.

Bella recoiled as if he had struck her, slapping her hand over her mouth as bile threatened to bubble up.

For just a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in Edward's eyes—guilt maybe, remorse—but it was gone before she could identify it, replaced by a steely, unrelenting implacability.

Slowly dropping her hand, she backed away from him, feeling the tears brimming behind her eyes, as she shook her head. She wanted to hurt him, hurt him as much as he had hurt her, but knew she didn't have that kind of power over him.

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you, Edward," she told him, keeping her voice low, fighting to keep the tremble out of it. "Why don't you go to Tanya's, I'm sure she'll help you forget what a fuck-up I am. I'll keep out of your way."

Bella turned away, not seeing the pain blossom on Edward's face. As she walked towards her room, something occurred to her and she stopped, but didn't look round.

"I'll return what I can to Bloomingdales. I wore one of the dresses and a pair of shoes, but I'll take the rest back tomorrow." Her voice was a monotone, defeated.

"That won't be necessary," he announced from where he still stood in the kitchen.

Bella turned around, a small element of hope in her heart that he wasn't going to be a complete shit.

"I'll take it to work with me tomorrow and get Rose to return it," he told her, his tone brusque, and her heart broke a little more—not because she wanted all the stuff she had bought, because, in truth, she could do without the reminder—but because it meant that Edward really did hate her and wanted to hurt her. "I would prefer that you didn't leave the apartment tomorrow."

She just nodded and carried on to her room.

"Isabella," Edward called.

She stopped again. "What?"

"Don't forget your laptop. I imagine you've got a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."

A fat tear slid down Bella's cheek, but she was determined he wouldn't see it. Dashing it quickly away, she diverted back to the living room, picked up her bag, and then went quickly to her room with her head down. She could feel Edward's eyes upon her, but didn't look up, slipping into her bedroom and quietly closing the door behind her before she allowed herself to dissolve into silent tears.

In the kitchen, Edward fisted his hair, appalled at what had just transpired.

When he'd overheard Bella and Rose discussing some guy called Riley, who had apparently spent the night in her hotel room, his worst fears, sparked by Rose when she told him that Bella had stayed in a hotel the night before, were confirmed—she had slept with someone. She had given herself to another man, and, in the unlikely event that she had still been a virgin last night, that was surely no longer the case. Some random fucker, out there walking the street, could say he'd been her first; had been _inside_ his girl. It made his blood boil. An anger, the likes of which he had never previously experienced, even when she had stayed out late in London, took hold of Edward and a red mist seemed to descend, robbing him of rational thought. He had struck out, determined to hurt her, because the pain he felt at that moment was indescribable.

Still tugging on his beleaguered hair, he slid down the cupboard fronts and sat on the floor, his knees pulled up tight against his chest, as he finally relinquished the grip he had on his chaotic locks and wrapped his arms around his shins.

With her presence gone from the room, some lucidity returned and he began to seriously question his reaction and his motives. Had he really thought of her as '_his girl?'_ She was seventeen years old and couldn't remain a virgin—or single—forever, no matter how much he might want to keep her that way. But then, was he being honest with himself? Was he angry—or was he jealous? Was it that he never wanted _any_ man to fuck her—or was it that he didn't want any man _but him_ to fuck her?

_Do I want to fuck her?_

_Don't be a moron, of course you do!_

_Isn't that why you've been utterly priapic since the moment she burst into Ms Banner's office a week ago?_

_Jesus-H-Christ, was that only seven days ago?_

_Oh God, this is so wrong. I'm supposed to be a father figure, and all I can think about is that I want to see her lying naked beneath me, my cock buried so far inside her that it would be impossible to tell where she ends and I begin._

Edward rested his forehead on his knees. He had to stop thinking stuff like that, it would do him no good. It would merely serve to drive him insane.

He pushed himself up off the floor and went to his study.

_I need to work. Let that be my panacea._

Edward let himself into his study, closing the door behind him. He did not hear the sobs of the heartbroken girl on the other side of the apartment.

**~o0o~**

Bella's stomach rumbled loudly, but the thought of food made her feel queasy.

She was curled up on her bed, dressed only in her t-shirt from this morning and the plain, white mini-briefs she'd put on at the hotel. She'd eaten nothing since dinner the night before and a glance at the clock on her bedside table told her it was now well past lunchtime. She knew she should eat, if only to counter the effect of all the alcohol she had consumed last night, but the thought of going into the kitchen and Edward being there horrified her.

She rolled over on her back, trying to listen out for any noise elsewhere in the apartment, but could hear nothing.

Her stomach growled again, as if in protest at her prevarication, and she finally realised she would have to venture forth.

_I wish I could get a pizza delivered direct to my bedroom._

Bella tiptoed across the room and carefully opened her bedroom door, peeking around the jamb to listen out for Edward.

All was silent, so she decided to take a chance and nip to the kitchen and see what she could grab that wouldn't need to be cooked.

With no sign of Edward anywhere, she assumed he was either closeted away in his study or he had, indeed, gone to Tanya's—a thought she really didn't want to dwell upon.

Checking the fridge, it quickly became apparent that Edward needed to stock up—all that she could find was a jar of pasta sauce, 4 eggs, half a loaf of rye bread, some butter spread, 3 apples, a carton of orange juice, a carton of milk—still fresh—a couple of slices of salami and 3 slices of Emmental cheese. So, there was the makings for a sandwich, although, despite the fact that she wanted to hate Edward right now, she didn't want to take the last of the filling in case he wanted it.

In the cupboard, she found cereal—Bran Flakes… bleh. Wait, what was that… Lucky Charms! A new packet, which Edward must have put in his request to Marcus. _Edward, you sly dog!_

Bella shook the multi-coloured cereal into a bowl, filling it up, and then splashed cold milk over it. The glass she'd left on the counter earlier was still there, so she filled it with water, and carried her make-shift meal back to her room, nearly dropping it when she heard a loud clunking sound followed by a shouted "FUCK!" emanating from Edward's study.

She froze on the spot, glancing towards the passage leading to the study, from where she could also hear various banging noises, as if Edward was throwing things around. A particularly loud, crash against the door, which sounded like glass being smashed, made her jump again and she decided that discretion was the better part of valour, spurring her to get back to her room and keep her head down.

**~o0o~**

Down the hall, Edward stood amidst the chaos he had created, hands on hips, breathing hard and staring unseeingly at the stripped pine door, which now boasted a large crack, whilst the shattered remnants of a large crystal dish or bowl lay all over the floor. In addition, his printer lay buckled and on its side on the floor beside his desk, along with most of the contents of said desk, which looked to have been swept clean. His chair was overturned behind his desk, and the one in front of it had apparently sprouted wings and flown across the room, landing on the couch.

Twenty minutes earlier, he had called Rose at the office to ask her about this Riley guy, but she had been singularly unhelpful, saying she had seen no one else in Bella's room. He told her he knew someone had stayed the night with Bella, and then he had asked her if she thought Bella had fucked the guy.

Rose had laughed. _Laughed!_

"Why do you care so much, Edward?"

He had snorted. "Oh, apart from the fact that she's underage, you mean?"

"Jeez, Edward, she's had six months of being legal in the UK, you know—and I thought you said she'd already popped her cherry, so what the fuck difference does it make now?"

"I don't care what the law in Britain says, over here she's underage, and she shouldn't be sleeping around anyway. Christ, Rose, putting aside the health issues, do you have any idea at all how complicated things could become if she got knocked up or, worse, pulled a Britney Spears and eloped?"

"Oh, come on, Edward. She may be a flighty teenager, but she's not that dumb, so for God's sake, stop getting your panties in a twist about stuff that's never going to happen."

"You don't know her, Rose, so please don't act like you do."

There was a pause at the other end before Rose responded.

"Maybe I don't know her, but I know women. And if you didn't want my advice or opinion, why did you call? I'm busy, Edward—in case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one holding down the fort at the moment, so g0 stew in your own juices and leave me alone, unless you want something important… and work-related," she finished with a huff, slamming the phone down on him.

Edward emulated her, but his office phone wasn't quite so robust as Rose's and the handset cradle broke, infuriating him. All of a sudden, his frustration and anger just boiled over and with a strangled roar he swept everything off his desk, catching the printer cable, which tipped it over the edge onto the floor.

"_FUCK!"_

Edward jumped up, his chair spinning back and toppling over. Striding round the desk, he picked up his visitor's chair and hurled it across the room, and as it skimmed across the top of the coffee table onto the couch, it knocked a large, very heavy, Bohemian crystal bowl onto the floor. Edward looked down at it curiously, as if he'd never seen it before, then bent to pick it up. Breathing heavily with anger and exertion, he turned the expensive piece of objet d'art slowly in his hands, noting that it was undamaged, and recalling that it had been a gift from Tanya, several years ago, before they even started dating.

_Tanya—this shitstorm all started with fucking Tanya._

Pulling his arm back, he launched the dish like a heat seeking missile across the room, where it hit the door with an almighty crash, exploding on contact and showering the floor with shards of glass.

All of a sudden, Edward seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head as if to clear it. He looked around at the devastation he'd caused and muttered a few choice expletives. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, he carefully picked his way through the mess and pulled open the door, wincing as it caught and crackled on the broken glass. He stepped over it and out into the hallway, glad he was wearing his Birkenstocks, and shut the door firmly behind him. He walked down to the kitchen and riffled through a drawer containing a pile of take-out menus, knowing there was little in the fridge which was even vaguely appetising. He realised he was ravenous, having had nothing to eat since a sandwich this time yesterday, and assumed Bella would be equally hungry.

After what had been said this morning—the reminder of which immediately made him cringe inwardly—he knew Bella was unlikely to forgive him and things would be hideously awkward between them, but they had to eat and they were pretty much stuck with one another, at least for the time being.

He took a deep breath, picked up the assorted menus and made his way to Bella's room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as always, to MauiGirl60, my brilliant beta, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar – three ladies who comprise my fantastic support system.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
**

**Friday 1 April 2011**

Edward stood on his terrace looking out over the Shore and sipping from a mug of coffee, as he watched the sun come up for the second morning in a row. This time, at least, he knew that Bella was safe in her room, although there wasn't much else to be happy about right now.

Yesterday she had pretty much ignored him, keeping him locked out of her room, refusing to participate in lunch or dinner, and responding to him in monosyllables on the one occasion that their paths had crossed.

Earlier, he had ordered some food to be delivered by his local deli and, whilst waiting for it to turn up, had returned to his study to clear up the mess he'd made and straighten things up. When the food had arrived, he'd prepared himself a sandwich and ate it at the breakfast bar, before getting back to the clean-up of his office. Later on, he'd tried again to persuade Bella to come out of her room to eat but she had told him to go away, leaving him to heat up half the pre-cooked lasagne he'd ordered and eat it alone. After that, he'd watched some TV for a while, but exhaustion had forced him to his bed shortly after eight o'clock in the evening.

It was close to one o'clock in the morning when he woke to hear noise coming from the living area and decided to investigate. He climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of well-worn jeans to cover his nakedness, and crept barefoot out of his room.

There, in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a tiny cotton camisole and equally tiny, matching shorts was Bella, busy making a sandwich, her back to him.

Edward leaned against the wall watching her silently, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

"I left you some lasagne in the fridge." He spoke softly but in the still, quiet of the night, his words seemed to reverberate around the room.

Bella leapt about a foot into the air, a squeal of surprise erupting from her as she twisted around to see Edward standing on the other side of the breakfast bar, his eyes dark and intense with what she assumed was anger, despite the gentleness of his words. Her eyes flickered briefly over his bare torso, but she forced herself to ignore her body's reaction to him.

She scowled, not wanting his kindness. "No, thanks," she told him, when her heart had stopped thundering in her chest.

Edward regarded her silently for a moment, before pushing himself away from the wall and leaning on the breakfast bar.

"You should have something more substantial than a sandwich—you've hardly eaten anything all day."

She merely shook her head, not looking at him, as she wrapped her food loosely in some kitchen roll, picked up her replenished water glass and hurried out of the kitchen back to her room.

Edward sighed as he watched her go, forcing himself not to look at her ass, then grabbed a drink of water, turned off the lights and headed back to bed.

Now, this morning, he was caught on the horns of a dilemma. With nothing resolved between them, he was torn between going into work or staying at home where he could keep an eye on Bella. He really needed to get to the office, but he had no idea whether he could trust Bella to stay put and not pull another stunt like she had on Tuesday.

Edward rubbed his hand over his face and rested his forearms on the balustrade, both hands wrapped around his cup. Shaking his head, he ruminated on how his life had gone from being ordered and predictable to utter chaos and frustration in a matter of days.

Bella.

It all came back to Bella, because without her presence—her sheer volatility—being thrown into the mix, he wouldn't even have to worry that much about the possibility of a takeover. But those concerns, allied to all the anxieties inherent in raising a teenage girl—not to mention the ambiguity of the feelings she aroused in him—had him at his wits' end, physically and mentally exhausted by the rollercoaster ride on which he currently seemed to be trapped.

Shaking his head again, Edward straightened up and took a final mouthful of coffee before heading back inside. There was no sign of Bella and he knew he was going to have to rouse her so that he could talk to her.

Depositing his mug on the counter, he went straight to her room and knocked sharply on the door.

"Isabella? Wake up, we need to talk."

Silence from within.

Edward tried the door handle and was unsurprised to find it locked.

"Isabella!" he yelled, pounding harder on the door.

"_Jee-zuss," _he heard her exclaim from the other side, followed a moment later by thumping footfalls approaching.

The lock clicked and the door was torn open, a dishevelled and sleep-fogged Bella standing looking furious—and unutterably glorious—before him.

"_WHAT?"_

Edward took a step backwards, his eyes involuntarily raking over her body, from her head to her feet and back again, practically burning holes in her scanty attire.

Bella, of course, interpreted Edward's frowning perusal as yet more evidence of his disappointment and disapproval, wrapping her arms around her midriff and dropping her eyes to the floor.

"What did I do now?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Edward sighed deeply, transferring his gaze to a point somewhere over her right shoulder. "I don't know, Isabella, what else is there?" he asked laconically.

Bella's head lifted, her chocolate eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell does that mean?"

Edward shook his head in frustration. "Nothing, Isabella, forget it. Can you please just put some clothes on and come out to the kitchen. We have things we need to sort out."

Without waiting for an answer, Edward turned and walked back to collect his cup and refill it from the coffee maker. He then went to the front door and opened it, picked up the newspaper which had been left outside, and returned to the breakfast bar. He pulled out a chair and sat down, unfolding the paper to read the headlines.

Meanwhile, Bella stood under the shower, determined to take her time as she let the water cascade down on her, in the hope that the heat would relax her tense muscles. Edward had hurt her so much the previous day and she was dreading another confrontation, but she knew she couldn't avoid it any longer.

Finally turning off the water and stepping out, she dried herself and started looking for something to wear. She knew she would be under house-arrest today, so she might as well take advantage of the deck and get some sun on her skin. With this in mind, she simply donned her blue bikini and slipped a blue, strapless sundress over it with a stretchy, ruched bodice, and a loose, flowing skirt which skimmed the ground. She brushed the tangles out of her damp hair and wound it on top of her head, securing it with two blue-enamelled decorative chopsticks, and pushed her feet into a pair of blue flip-flops. With just a quick glance in the mirror, she left the room and went to join Edward.

She walked past where he was sitting, ignoring the long look he gave her as she rounded the breakfast bar and went straight to the cupboard to extract tea and cereal. He continued to watch her as she leaned against the sink, spooning Lucky Charms into her mouth, his scrutiny making her feel uncomfortable and a little irritated.

Putting her bowl in the sink, she picked up her tea and took a sip, trying hard to ignore him, and quite determined not to be the one to speak first.

In the end, it was Edward who broke the silence.

"If I leave you here on your own today while I go to the office, are you going to run off again?" he asked evenly.

Bella took another sip of tea before speaking, but didn't look up at him. "I don't know, depends," she muttered petulantly.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Oh, on what, may I ask?"

Bella finally looked at him. "On whether you're going to carry on being a monumental prick," she replied crossly.

Edward looked at her, his expression unreadable, and she wished she knew what was going on in his head.

He remained silent for several minutes, and Bella started to think he wasn't going to say anything else, which puzzled her, as they had still resolved nothing. She wondered if Edward intended to just remain here with her for the duration of their stay, and never let her leave the apartment, which made her wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

So caught up in her own thoughts was she, that she jumped when Edward started speaking again.

"May I ask you a hypothetical question, Isabella?" he enquired, his tone eminently reasonable.

Bella shrugged, wondering where his non-sequitur could possibly be going.

"Try to imagine that Charlie and Renee are still alive," he started.

Bella's head shot up and she gasped. "What? What do you mean? You can't say stuff like that!" she exclaimed.

Edward held his hand up, before continuing as if she'd never spoken.

"Imagine, if you will, that Charlie has promised you he'll be home to spend time with you, but something comes up and he sends a message that he'll be late, but that he will be home."

"This isn't fair, you can't compare—"

"However," he continued, speaking across her, "when he gets home a couple of hours later, his precious teenage, _underage_ daughter is blind drunk on the sofa and he has to put her to bed."

Bella scowled and turned away to fill the kettle, trying to ignore him. She considered walking out of the room, but suspected Edward might just follow her and drag her back.

"Then, in the morning, instead of being contrite about her behaviour, said teenager appears to be mad at her father, even though her crime is really greater. Charlie, of course, hopes it will all blow over and that his bright, intelligent daughter will come to her senses."

Bella gripped the kitchen counter, staring at the kettle—which had boiled—and gritted her teeth.

"But instead, she decides to pack a bag and leave without telling a soul where she's going or what she's doing, staying out all night in a strange city that she doesn't know very well. Charlie and Renee are distraught, imagining every kind of vile thing that can happen to a young, naïve teenage girl in a big city. They sit up all night, Renee crying on Charlie's shoulder as he holds her tight and tells her everything is going to be fine, even though he's scared shitless it won't be.

"He calls the police in the early hours, only to be told that teenagers do this kind of thing all the time, and nine times out of ten they come home safely, their tails between their legs, and that there's nothing the police can do anyway until she's been missing for twenty four hours."

"And all he can think about is the one out of ten who doesn't make it home, who ends up violated and bloody in some dark, stinking alley—"

"Stop it, please, stop," Bella whispered, her voice breaking and shoulders shaking, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she bowed her head over the counter.

Edward wanted to go to her, put his arms around her, comfort her, hold her… but he simply didn't dare.

"Do you understand, Bella?" he asked gently. "Do you comprehend at all how much you scared me?"

She twisted around, lifting her head to look at him.

"But it's not the same, Edward, it just isn't. You lied to me!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bella." Edward threw his hands in the air. "Yes, I lied to you, but that was because I didn't want you to get the wrong idea and—God forbid—start blowing things out of proportion! Tanya called, said she needed to see me, we had dinner, I left. End of fucking story." Edward's voice was getting progressively louder.

"Oh, but just for the record, even if I had stayed with Tanya, it's none of your fucking business!"

Bella stared at him, knowing he was right, but that didn't stop it hurting so much.

She watched him drag his hands through his hair, his face showing his frustration.

Dashing away her tears, she lifted her chin, and fought to harden her heart.

"Yeah, you're right and I'm wrong… mea culpa," she said quietly, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. "So, what do you want to do, lock me in my room for the next three weeks?"

Edward rolled his eyes at her, placing his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "Don't be ridiculous, Isabella. All I want is for you to promise that if I go into the office, you will stay put until I get back—which, if I go now, should be…" he looked at his watch, "… I guess about three o'clock? If you give me your word, I'll accept it—although God knows, you've given me little reason to trust you. If you're not willing to give me such a promise, then I guess I'll just have to treat you like a child and arrange for someone to come and babysit you."

"Babysit me? Who?" Bella practically squeaked, a look of horror on her face.

"I don't know. There are a few people I could ask. My stepmother, Esme, or my half-sister, Alice—they're both hard-nosed bitches who won't take any shit from you. Or I could hire a professional bodyguard to keep you in your place."

Bella's shoulders dropped, a look of defeat settling across her lovely features. "Do what you want, Edward. If we're done here, I'd like to go to my room, if that's okay?" She turned to leave, needing to get away from him because she knew it was only a matter of time before the floodgates opened yet again.

Quick as a flash, Edward was in front of her, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist, as she looked up at him in surprise.

"Isabella, wait. You have to promise me that you won't run away again. I can't…" he sighed, looking up at the ceiling before dropping his gaze back to her. "Just promise me, okay?"

Bella looked away.

Edward raised his free hand and took her chin between his thumb and index finger, turning her face and tipping it until she was looking at him.

"Bella?" he asked, keeping his voice low, as if he was afraid of spooking a skittish animal.

She batted his hand away, twisting her face out of his grip and fixing her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder. "Fine," she murmured.

"What?"

She looked at him at last. "I said, _fine, _I promise," she yelled. "Okay? Are you satisfied?"

She tore herself out of his grip and ran to her room, and Edward let her go. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before letting it out again. He then made his way to his room to get dressed for work.

**~o0o~**

True to her word, Bella was there when Edward returned later that day. She was watching TV in the living room, but as soon as he came in and said hello, she quickly and wordlessly got up and went to her room.

When he knocked on her door a couple of hours later, asking if she wanted dinner, all he got in response was, "I've eaten."

The weekend followed the same pattern, with Bella only going to the kitchen for food when she was sure Edward wouldn't be there. If he did walk in on her, she quickly finished up and scurried back to her room.

Edward hated it.

He hated the atmosphere. He hated the silence. He hated that Bella was probably not eating properly because of her avoidance tactics, and he hated that she was clearly so unhappy.

But, most of all, he hated it because he missed her. He missed the easy camaraderie they had previously managed to cultivate, if only briefly, and he missed her beautiful smile.

All the stuff she had bought at Bloomingdales was still sitting in bags in the living room, because he'd never taken it away, but she just ignored it, leaving everything untouched in the corner.

Which struck him as incredibly sad.

In her room, Bella spent much of her time on Facebook and Twitter, and Skyping Jess and Lauren. She did her school work as it turned up in her inbox, read and listened to music, and ached for the Edward with whom she'd shared an al fresco lunch back in London, the one who had watched '_Notorious_' with her into the early hours while Tanya slept upstairs, and had let her drink champagne in a jazz bar.

And treacherous as she knew the thought to be, she missed the _idea_ that Edward cared about her in anything other than a paternal way.

It never occurred to her that the anger he had displayed over Riley could be anything other than the over-protectiveness of a parental figure.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday April – Thursday 7 April 2011**

And so the bright, spring days followed one upon another, as New York, like London, basked in unseasonably warm weather.

Edward and Bella tiptoed around one another, maintaining a frigid civility but barely interacting, even on those evenings when Edward would insist that they eat together. He would ask her about her schoolwork and her friends, and she would answer in monosyllables.

On one particularly trying evening a week after their last confrontation on—appropriately enough—April Fool's Day, Edward had ordered in from a local French bistro, hoping that some decent food would tempt Bella out of her mammoth sulk.

As had happened every night since the previous Friday, his invitation to eat with him had been met with the monotonously familiar claim that she wasn't hungry—an outrageous lie, as he knew she always crept into the kitchen after she thought he'd gone to bed.

On this occasion, however, Edward wasn't to be denied, and upon trying the doorknob, was surprised to find that it was unlocked.

Bella, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop resting on her thighs, looked up in surprise when Edward pushed open the door and entered.

"So now you have to invade my privacy in my own room?" she exclaimed crossly.

"Isabella… Bella, please… I don't want to fight with you—it's altogether too exhausting," he sighed, forcing himself to keep his voice even and reasonable.

"I have food… nice food… from Chez Gerard's. It's too much for one… won't you please come and share it with me?"

Bella looked at him expressionlessly—she wanted to tell him no, that she really wasn't hungry, but she was. And with the door open, she was starting to pick up the extraordinarily appetising smells which were wafting from the kitchen. But still…

As she opened her mouth to refuse yet again, her stomach decided to betray her... loudly. As a loud gurgle was emitted from Bella's abdomen, Edward couldn't help the smirk which spread across his face, particularly as Bella's cheeks were immediately suffused with a warm, pink, glow.

"I'll take that as a yes," Edward deadpanned. "Come and get it while it's hot."

And with that he turned and left the room, leaving the door open. He knew that, at the very least, she would have to get up to close it, and once she was on her feet, hopefully the smell of the food and her own hunger would propel her out the door and down the passage.

He was right, but in the end, he couldn't chalk it up as a successful evening.

As ever, Bella remained monosyllabic and Edward found himself grinding his teeth in irritation and frustration. The food was delicious, but there was little enjoyment in eating it because of the tension between them, and he had to wonder just how long a seventeen-year-old girl could sulk for. A week seemed like an unreasonable amount of time, even for the most emo teenager.

Edward tried again.

"So, what are Jessica and Lauren up to for Easter, did they say?"

Bella stopped chewing for a moment but didn't look up. "The usual," she muttered, taking another bite of the delicious chicken dish that Edward had ordered.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, before trying again.

"The usual?"

"Skiing."

"Oh, where do they go?"

"Klosters."

"Are they going with their parents?"

Bella put down her fork and finally met Edward's gaze.

"No, Edward, they're going together, just the two of them—it was supposed to be the three of us."

"Oh."

"Yeah—oh."

She quickly stood up, put her cutlery on her plate and carried it to the sink. She scraped the remaining food into the bin, rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher.

Edward sat watching her, his fork hovering above his plate, trying to think of something to say.

"Thanks for dinner," she offered quietly as she walked out of the kitchen and back to her room.

"Bella—" But it was too late, because moments later he heard her door close, before what sounded like Leonard Cohen began to echo through the apartment.

_Great, music to slit your wrists to._

Edward put his fork down and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He then gathered up his own plate and followed Bella's lead, disposing of the rest of his food and putting the plate and cutlery in the dishwasher. He went over to the island and picked up the white and dark chocolate cheesecake which was thawing and put it in the fridge. Maybe Bella might come out later and eat some, otherwise he'd throw it away tomorrow.

Sighing, Edward finished clearing up and went into the living room to watch TV.

**~o0o~**

Edward knew things would have to change, but had little idea how to effect such change without allowing Bella the freedom which it terrified him to give her. But they couldn't go on like this—he was beginning to suspect she was never going to forgive him for whatever crime she had decided he was guilty of. Her own complicity in the current situation seemed to have completely bypassed her and he was beginning to give up hope that he could ever mend the bridges between them which Bella seemed determined to burn.

On Thursday, salvation, however temporary, seemed to come in the shape of Rose, who suggested a night out the next day, and Edward jumped at it.

When he got home he went in search of Bella, finding her, as always, glued to her laptop screen. He was encouraged by the fact that when he knocked, she had actually responded with: "Come in," which was progress indeed.

He smiled at her, as she looked up at him.

"Hi, how's it going?"

Bella shrugged, saying nothing.

Edward resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes.

"Look, Rose suggested a night out tomorrow—you know, dinner and a few drinks. What do you think?"

Bella frowned. "It sounds great, Edward. Have fun." She then removed her gaze, fixing it back on her computer screen.

"What? No!" Edward's hand dived into his hair, as he battled to stop himself snapping at her. "Bella, please, you know that's not what I meant—the invitation is for both of us."

Bella sighed and looked up again. "I don't think so, Edward—please tell Rose thanks, but no thanks."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Bella, how long are you going to keep this up? I'm bending over fucking backwards here, you've got to give me something. Are you going to fucking sulk until you're eighteen?"

As Edward's frustration finally boiled over, Bella looked at him in surprise. She knew it was childish and pointless—not to say, lonely and boring—to maintain her strop with Edward, but as the days had passed, she had found it more and more difficult to relinquish what she thought of as the moral high ground, and as days turned into a week and then some, she started to believe that any softening of her attitude would feel like capitulation. And so she was stuck—her pride preventing her from giving Edward any quarter.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I just don't want to spend an evening with you or your friends—is that so surprising? You've effectively grounded me, you've made it clear that you don't trust me or want me to interact with others or make friends of my own. I'm trapped here with you because I have nowhere else to go, and now you demand that I go out on the town with you.

"You can't have it both ways, Edward, so please just leave me be. Go out with your friends, or your girlfriend, or whoever you bloody like, but just leave me alone. At least I can still talk to my friends on the computer—I have nothing to contribute with your friends_. 'Oh, Bella, so what have you been up to this week?' 'Uh, well, sitting in my room, trying to think of something to post on Facebook and listening to music.'_ Yeah, that's gonna be a real conversation high point."

She shook her head in disgust, looking away from him.

Edward stood in the doorway, staring at her, at a complete loss. Finally, he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Okay, I give up. I tried—God knows, I have tried with you, Isabella, but you just won't give an inch, will you? Well, okay, stay here and wallow in self-pity. Tomorrow evening I will be joining Emmett and Rosalie for a couple of drinks and an early dinner, after which, I will be home. If, at any point in the evening you decide you want to join us, call me."

Edward turned on his heel and walked out, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He heard it, however, a moment later, when Bella slammed it shut.

**~o0o~**

**Friday 8 April 2011**

Edward left early the following morning, not even bothering to see if Bella would join him for breakfast, so by the time she awoke he was long gone and the apartment was quiet.

Bella sat at the breakfast bar, munching distractedly on her cereal, wondering if she could possibly get through yet another day of soul-destroying boredom and loneliness. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying herself to sleep again the night before, and she knew that if things went on the way they were, she might just go insane.

A part of her wanted to stay mad at Edward, if for no other reason than it ameliorated her guilt about the worry she had caused him when she had disappeared for a night. The teenager in her tried to rationalise that it was no big deal and that it was his own fault for lying to her, but the intelligent, decent and kind-hearted daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan knew, deep down, that not only did she over-react, she also hurt Edward profoundly.

And what was to be gained by staying mad, other than a miserable time until she was able to go back to school? Edward would never see her as anything more than a troublesome teen and she needed to just get over herself and move on—a goal that would be more easily achieved if she could just manage to slough off the moody adolescent persona and start trying to be more amenable. In this way, time would hopefully start moving at more than the snail's pace of the last week or so, and she could start looking forward to getting back to England and school and her friends.

All this went through Bella's mind, but the hurdle she kept tripping over was her pride—and how she could turn this situation around without having to grovel to Edward.

This conundrum continued to preoccupy her thoughts as she finished breakfast and cleaned up, and she was beginning to think that she would, indeed, have to swallow her pride, when her phone beeped with a message. Picking up the device, she saw that she had a text from Rose.

**Stop sulking dweeb + cum 4 a drink 2nite**

Bella snorted, laughing at Rose's bluntness, despite herself.

**Im still p'd off w/ed + Ive got nothing 2 wear**

Rose might be an answer to her prayer, but there was no way she was going to let her know that, or appear too eager. She pressed send and was surprised when less than half a minute later her phone beeped again.

**yawn – eds not asking I am + u have $$$$ worth of stuff u bought last wk**

She looked over at the bags which still languished in the corner of the living room where Edward had dumped them when she'd come home last week. He's said he was going to take them to the office so Rose could return everything to Bloomingdales, but it looked like he either couldn't be bothered or had forgotten. Did she dare keep any of it?

**Ed was gonna get u 2 return it, dont know if I can use it**

**He didnt mention 2 me. Fuck him, just keep it**

Bella laughed and then started tapping the screen again.

**Ok u win, where u going, wht time?**

**Monkey bar, 1800, c u there**

Bella sent back an acknowledgement and then put her phone down. She wondered if she should call Edward—he's said she should if she changed her mind—but reasoned that Rose would tell him.

With that thought, she headed over to the bags in the corner and gathered them up to take to her room, feeling better… lighter… than she had in days.

**~o0o~**

When Bella arrived at the Monkey Bar, a little before 6.30 that evening, it was already packed, and she had to fight her way through the Friday night Happy Hour crowd. She was glad she'd worn heels, otherwise she would have felt positively claustrophobic. As she slithered and wiggled her way to where she hoped Rose and Emmett were, she suddenly felt more than the normal amount of touching one might expect from people just moving out of her way… way more contact, she decided, as a large male hand very definitely and deliberately slid over her bottom.

Bella twisted round, to be met by a pair of amused blue eyes in a face which should have been handsome—chiselled jaw, straight nose, high, sculpted cheekbones, and those piercing blue eyes—yet there was something… feral about it.

"Hey, watch the hands, tosser!" Bella yelped.

Said tosser smirked down at her. "Tosser? What the fuck does that mean?" he laughed, sliding his hand _very slowly_ from her bottom.

Bella glared up at him. "Suffice to say, I was _not_ complimenting you on your inappropriate behaviour!" she snapped.

"Nice—beautiful _and_ feisty, my favourite combination," he purred.

"Oh my, pervy _and_ smarmy—my least favourite combination," Bella bit back, injecting as much sarcasm as possible into her voice, before turning to move away from him.

He laughed, slipping a hand around her waist and pulling her to him before she even realised what he was doing. Leaning down, he spoke directly into her ear.

"Oh, baby, let me change your mind. I promise you won't regret it," he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

Bella kicked him in the shin, making him jump back, letting her go.

"Ow! Fuck! Okay, okay… _jeez_, that hurt," he cried.

"It was meant to!" she shouted over her shoulder as she slipped away into the crowd before he could stop her again.

Finally making it to the other side of the bar, where there was a little more space, she looked around and saw Emmett towering above the crowd, and next to him Rosalie, both of them sitting on high stools around a tall table. She smiled and made her way over to them.

"Hi, guys, I made it," she grinned, drawing their attention to her.

Emmett turned his head and looked down, a big grin spreading across his face. Sliding off his stool, he lifted Bella off her feet in a massive bear hug, leaving her breathless.

"Uhh, suffocating here!" Bella mumbled against his chest.

He put her down, grabbing her shoulders as she wobbled slightly on her heels.

"Hey, Bell, I didn't think you were coming. Edward said you were sulking in your room… or skulking? I dunno, one or the other," he chuckled.

Rose leaned over and smacked him on the arm.

"Shut up, Emmett, you dork. Ignore him, Bella. What doyou want to drink?"

"Um, just a lime and soda water, please. Talking of Edward, where is he?"

"Um, over by the bar, I think; he just bumped into a friend when we came in—Bear, sort out the drinks, please, hun. You look great, Bella."

Bella smiled her thanks, pleased she'd had a chance to wear the handkerchief top and black skinny jeans she'd bought last week, paired with the Vivien Westwood boots and a short, black leather jacket.

"Oh yeah, you are looking foxy, Bell," Emmett exclaimed. "You're gonna have all the boys fighting over ya—I'll have to beat them off with a stick," he laughed.

Bella blushed, shaking her head and distracting herself by pulling out one of the stools and climbing up on it. As she did, the extra height gave her a clear view across to the bar where she could see Edward—with his arm around a stunning Latina woman. As she watched with a sinking heart, the woman turned and threw her arms round Edward's neck and kissed him on the mouth. Edward pulled back, laughing, then leaned in close to whisper something conspiratorially into her ear, causing her to laugh in return.

_This is such a fuck-up! Damn and blast him!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as ever, are due to my super beta, MauiGirl60, to Cared and to Midnight Cougar – my fab support system.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"Here ya go, Bell, one lime soda," Emmett smiled as he took the drink from the waitress and handed it to Bella. She threw him a quick smile back, looking away from where she had watched Edward embracing a beautiful woman a few moments earlier. She desperately wanted alcohol, but knew no one at the table would get it for her, especially once Edward returned, so she would have to get it by other means.

She slid off the stool and smiled at Rose. "I'm busting for the loo, be back in two ticks."

But apparently the gods hated her tonight because just before she could slip into the crowd, Edward suddenly appeared in front of her, his hand resting on the small of Miss Spanish Sex Pot's back.

"Bella! What…?" He frowned at her, and Bella squeezed her eyes shut. Clearly, he wasn't happy to see her.

"Um, I was just going to the loo," she muttered, trying to push past.

Edward grabbed her arm. "I thought you were going to call if you changed your mind!" he barked, more sharply than he had intended. He couldn't stop his eyes from raking up and down her body, taking in the skimpy, low-cut and backless top, and the criminally skin-tight jeans she was wearing.

Bella looked up at him in confusion and then to the overtly exotic woman beside him, who he had now broken contact with in order to more effectively block Bella's progress towards the bathrooms.

"Rose texted me, didn't she tell you?" she snapped, trying to extricate herself from his grasp.

"No, she didn't," he said slowly, glancing over at Rose, but she was deep in conversation with someone at their table.

He looked back at Bella, but in his distraction, he had loosened his grip on her and she was pulling away from him.

"Wait, Bella, I want you to meet, Carmen—"

"Yeah, hi, gotta go, dying for a pee, sorry," Bella blurted, glancing at the Latin lovely with Edward and giving her a small wave before diving into the crowd before Edward could stop her.

"Dammit to hell," he muttered under his breath as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

His friend, Carmen, put her hand gently on his arm, drawing his attention back to her.

"So, that was the famous Isabella," she said softly in lightly-accented English. "She is very beautiful, Edward." She smiled at him, a knowing gleam in her eye, which he chose to ignore.

"She's a royal pain in the ass, Carmen," he complained, turning back towards their friends and leading her to Bella's vacated seat. "Let's join Eleazar and the others, and have a drink. I'll introduce you properly when she gets back from the restroom."

Avoiding the bathrooms in case Edward followed her, Bella retraced her steps and headed towards the bar hoping that, in the throng, she wouldn't be asked for ID.

Just as she got to the bar, someone else squeezed in next to her, and she turned to see the charmer from earlier.

"There you are, sweetlips, I've been looking for you everywhere," he told her, giving her a wolfish smile.

"Well, here I am!" she exclaimed, fanning out her hands in a "ta da" gesture.

"Yes, here you are, indeed," he purred softly right against her ear. "I'm James, and, despite your violent tendencies, I'm really glad I found you again."

Bella cringed a little, but knew she would be able to get a drink out of this guy, giving no thought to how risky her actions were; all she could think about was that she wanted to get shit-faced.

She grinned up at him. "Hello, James, I'm Bella. If I apologise profusely, would you buy a thirsty girl a drink?"

Hardly able to believe his luck, James slipped his arm around her waist and whispered into her ear. "Apology accepted, and it would be my absolute pleasure to buy you a drink, beautiful Bella. What would you like?"

At that moment, the bartender stopped in front of them, and Bella turned to him.

"I'll have a vanilla vodka and soda, please," she told him.

"Soda?"

"Yeah, you know, like fizzy water?"

He nodded and looked at James.

"JD and coke, over ice," he said, not taking his eyes off Bella. "You're British, aren't you? Man, you just keep getting sexier and sexier," he told her, his arm tightening around her.

When their drinks appeared, he led her away from the bar—and mercifully further away from Edward—to a table in the corner, out of sight of the area where Edward and his friends were sitting. Bella was pleased to see that another couple were already seated, and they clearly knew James, shuffling up to make room. He introduced them—Vicky, a fine-boned woman with alabaster skin and long, fiery red hair which framed her face in a mass of curls; and Laurent, a handsome African-American with milk-chocolate skin, European features and a wide, mischievous smile. They both welcomed Bella into their company, and as the drinks continued to flow, even James became less annoyingly smarmy, and really rather amusing and charming, making her feel sexy and grown-up.

Sometime after they sat down, Bella spotted Edward scoping the bar, clearly looking for her, and before she could even think about what she was doing, she turned to James and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him across her.

"Kiss me, please," she hissed, her eyes flickering across to where she could see Edward making his way through the crowd in her direction.

James cocked an eyebrow at her, but then let a slow smile light his face.

"With pleasure, sweetlips," he murmured, before closing in and covering her mouth with his.

James wasn't a bad kisser, and when she felt his tongue slide across her bottom lip she opened up to him a little, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. The kiss was good, it made her feel… wanted… attractive… sexy. She didn't even care anymore if Edward saw her—in fact, a part of her wanted him to find her kissing this man.

It was James who finally ended the kiss, withdrawing only slightly to look into Bella's eyes, his hands still tightly clasping her waist.

"Wow," he whispered, licking his lips and taking a deep breath. "You really are something else, you know that?"

Bella smiled, colour blooming across her cheeks, as she looked down and then back up at him through her lashes.

"Oh, baby, you're killing me here," he groaned, lowering his forehead to hers.

Bella felt empowered by the fact that this attractive, sophisticated man wanted her—all her earlier antipathy towards him vanishing as he ladled on the charm…and plied her with drinks.

"Hey, James, don't you need to get to the airport?" Vicky suddenly asked, tapping her watch.

Bella swivelled around to look at Vicky, frowning, then turned back to James.

"Oh, are you leaving?" she asked, disappointment washing over her.

"I'm not going anywhere without you, sweetlips," James murmured against her ear.

Vicky laughed. "You'll have to let her go soon, Jay, if you're going to get your flight to Vegas."

Bella looked at James. "You're going to Las Vegas? Tonight?"

He groaned again. "Don't remind me." He looked at his own watch. "Shit, I need to head up to the airport in a minute."

Bella pouted. "Can I come?"

"Don't say stuff like that unless you mean it," James said, looking at her intently.

Vicky put her hand on his arm.

"James, she's just a kid and she's drunk—"

Bella fixed Vicky with a glare.

"I'm not a kid, and you seriously underestimate me if you think I'm drunk," she snapped with the unending and misguided confidence of youth.

Turning back to James, she looked up at him through her lashes in what she hoped was a sexy, come-hither way. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his, then along his jaw to his ear.

"Take me with you, James, please," she whispered. "I wanna have some fun."

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back.

"Hey, I'd love to, but what about luggage? And you're a Brit, you might need a passport." He forced himself not to get his hopes up.

"I can buy what I need at the airport, and…" she rummaged in her bag until she triumphantly whipped out her passport, "ta daaa," she laughed.

Vicky looked at the two of them with concern. "Bella, what about your friends, your family? I can't imagine they'll be too keen on you just taking off across the country with a guy you just met." She was trying to keep her voice reasonable, but there was a worried edge to it. James was her friend, but she knew what a predatory asshole he could be.

"I don't have any family… or friends in New York—I'm a free agent," Bella said dismissively.

"So who was that guy looking for you earlier—the one you were trying to hide from?" Vicky asked tersely.

Bella looked at Vicky appraisingly. The woman was perceptive, but Bella was determined to shut down her opposition. She was sick of people telling her what she could and couldn't do—and she was sick of being disappointed by Edward. She was single, wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice and practically a legal adult—and James wanted her, Edward did not.

"He's no one, just a creepy stalker who thinks he's got a chance, but he's old enough to be my father—yuk!" Bella affected a convincing shudder, and Vicky's expression changed a little.

"Oh, okay… well, I guess if that's the case…" she trailed off, still unsure but not willing to press it.

"Come on, Vick, don't sweat it. It's only a couple of days and we'll be back on Sunday." James gave her a hard look and then looked at Bella. "So, are we doing this, Bella?"

She threw her arms around his neck, laughing. This was such an adventure. "Yes, oh yes, James, let's do it!"

James stood up, pulling Bella up with him.

"Okay, well, we need to get moving then, if we're going to have time to get you a ticket and buy a toothbrush."

Vicky bit her lip and looked at Laurent, who merely shrugged. "It's up to them, Vicky—they're both adults, and Bella's a lot better off having a fun weekend in Vegas with James than being pursued by some dirty old man."

Bella giggled at the idea of Edward as a dirty old man. Vicky wasn't so sure, but conceded that Laurent was right—ultimately, it was none of their business.

Glancing around, Bella could now see Emmett and Rose at the bar, talking to the bartender who had served them earlier, and she realised it was only a matter of minutes—perhaps seconds—before they spotted her, although for once, she was grateful for her short stature, which made her harder to find in a crowd.

"C'mon, James, let's go," she urged, knowing that they needed to move pretty quickly.

James bent down to kiss Vicky's cheek and shake Laurent's hand. He then reached under the table to grab a leather overnight bag, which he swung over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Vick, we'll be fine. See you guys next week."

He then turned to Bella, wrapping his arm around her waist and guiding her towards the exit.

As they approached the door, Bella saw Edward just outside, his phone glued to his ear.

She stopped and grabbed James's arm to pull him in front of her.

"Ugh, that creepy guy is by the door and I just know he'll make a scene—is there another way out?"

James looked down at Bella, a thoughtful look on his face. There was more to all this than Bella was saying, he was sure of it, but, God help him, he wanted her, and right now she was playing right into his hands.

He smiled. "Yeah, sure, we can go out through the kitchen. Come on, it's this way," and he took her hand to lead her to a passage on their right, at the far end of the bar.

Bella kept her head down and the next thing she knew they were in a noisy, chaotic kitchen, steam billowing around them, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor.

Someone shouted at them, but James just laughed, moving faster past the worktops and stoves as Bella trotted behind him. There was a door in front of them, and then they were through it and standing in a dark, rancid alley, the smell of rotting food all-pervasive. But they didn't wait around long enough for it to become oppressive, James leading the way down the alley in the opposite direction to the bar's entrance, holding fast to Bella's hand.

As they reached the street at the end of the alley, James spotted a taxi cruising towards them and flung an arm out to catch the driver's attention. It worked, and the cab swung into the curb. He opened the back door and Bella scrambled in. He threw in his bag and followed behind, pulling the door closed and leaning forward to speak to the driver.

"Newark Airport—Continental Airlines."

**~o0o~**

At the front of the bar, Edward was listening to Bella's voicemail for the third time, as he was joined by Rose and Emmett.

"Shit, Edward, I guess she didn't come this way, but there's no sign of her inside, although one of the bartenders saw a girl answering Bella's description getting a drink off some blond guy not that long ago," Rose reported.

Edward looked at her.

"I'm gonna fucking kill her, Rose, I swear to God. And if she comes out of this alive, I will lock her in a fucking convent for the rest of her life."

Emmett put his hand on Edward's shoulder. "Hey, stay cool, man, we'll find her. If she didn't come this way, she must still be inside, we just have to look more thoroughly, okay?"

They went back inside.

"Did Carmen and Eleazar leave?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, she's got an early photo shoot tomorrow, so they needed to run, otherwise she said they would have helped us look for Bella."

"Hey, like Em says, we'll find her," Rose soothed, although she wasn't entirely sure that was true.

In the bar, they fanned out, looking for a blond man with a short brunette. They made another circuit of the bar, meeting back near the entrance, and Edward asked Rose to check the bathroom again, even though she'd just come from there.

"She's not there, Edward—" Rose started to say, her voice full of resignation.

"_FUCK!_" Edward shouted, tearing at his hair.

Rose and Emmett just looked at one another, saying nothing.

After a couple of minutes, Rose suggested they do one more search and then Edward should head home to see if Bella was there. He nodded apathetically, not really believing they would find her in the bar or at home.

"Why is she doing this, Rose? Why, after everything I said last week, would she do this to me again?" Edward was unable to keep the note of pleading from his voice as he desperately tried to understand what was happening.

"I don't know, Edward. I can only assume she saw you with Carmen and once again jumped to the wrong conclusion before anyone could explain the facts to her," she sighed.

Edward frowned, confusion written all over his face. "But—I don't understand, Rose, what conclusion would she draw?"

"Duh! That you're romantically attached to Carmen," she said, as if explaining to a child.

"But why would she even care?" he asked, still trying to understand.

"Oh, Edward, don't you know?" she asked, exasperatedly.

"Know? Know what?"

"Jesus, Edward, are you being deliberately obtuse?" Rose threw her hands in the air. "The girl has got a crush on you a mile wide."

Edward's eyes were like saucers, as his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair, and his mouth dropped open.

"Wha— you can't be serious, Rose. No, it's ridiculous to suppose—" He stopped and looked at her.

"But, she doesn't even _like_ me," he said softly, shaking his head.

"Maybe she does and maybe she doesn't, but that has nothing to do with the fact that she's in love with you," Rose told him pragmatically.

"I… I just don't know how to react to that, Rose," Edward responded, as confused as ever.

They both jumped as Emmett clamped a hand down on their shoulders.

"Yeah, well, this is all very interesting, but it's not getting us any closer to finding Bella, is it?" He looked from one to the other, and they both nodded.

"Okay, we need to check the bar one more time. While you've been standing here with your heads up your butts, that sneaky little girl may well have slipped past us."

Edward stared at Emmett, a look of panic on his face.

"Hold up, Edward, I'm just yanking your chain, I've been keeping an eye out while you've been hanging out with Rose in the girly zone."

Edward narrowed his eyes at Emmett, but said nothing, and the three friends once again spread out to look for Bella.

The crowd had thinned out a little, now that Happy Hour was over, and it was the lull before the dinner crowd started arriving. Edward looked from left to right as he walked through the bar, trying to see into nooks and crannies. There was a table tucked around the corner that he hadn't noticed before and he could see a redhead talking to an African-American guy.

He started to turn away because Bella clearly wasn't with them, when the woman suddenly looked up and caught his eye. She quickly looked away and said something to her companion, but Edward was perplexed, as she seemed to recognise him—although he was sure he didn't know her. He stopped to look at her and she said something else to the guy before they both turned to look at him, seeming surprised he was still there and now looking back at them. This seemed to prompt the woman to get up; and it quickly became clear they were leaving.

Knowing it was probably fruitless, but desperate now to follow any lead, Edward headed in their direction.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" he asked the redhead.

"No, no. Sorry, I just thought you were someone I know," she babbled, very obviously put out by his approach.

Edward looked from her to the man beside her, who appeared to be looking at him with deep contempt.

Edward looked askance at the man, puzzled by his attitude. "I'm sorry, do we know one another?" he asked.

"No man, but I know your type," he sneered in response.

"Pardon me?" Edward was shocked at the man's retort.

"Laurent, leave it," the redhead hissed, reaching out to grab his arm.

However, it seemed Laurent was on a roll and had other ideas.

"No, Vicky, guys like him, they make me sick, chasing after girls young enough to be their daughters, it's disgusting!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Edward gasped, looking from one to the other.

Vicky sighed. "Look, it's none of our business. It's just this girl said you were chasing her—"

"What girl!" Edward cried. "Do you know Bella?"

Edward grabbed Vicky's arm and Laurent suddenly moved, pushing Edward hard in the chest.

"Get off her, you fucking pervert," he shouted.

As Edward stumbled into a group of people, they looked around to see what was going on.

"Laurent, come on, let's go!" Vicky exclaimed worriedly.

But Edward was rounding on them again.

"I am not a pervert, you moron! If you know Bella, you need to tell me where she is." He moved to block their exit and Laurent pulled Vicky behind him, as he prepared to take a swing at Edward.

"You dirty bastard, why don't you find a woman you own age… or a man, you pansy!" Laurent exclaimed, pulling his fist back to throw a punch.

But it never even took off as a massive hand closed around Laurent's wrist from behind.

"Chill, man, this is not your fight," Emmett spoke softly in his ear.

Laurent looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he found himself having to look up a lot further than he expected at Emmett's 6'4" frame.

In front of him, Edward closed in, but Vicky slipped between them, her back to Laurent and her hands on Edward's chest.

"Look, we don't want any trouble—" she started, but Edward was in no mood for further procrastination.

"Just tell me where the fuck Bella went!" he snarled.

"Edward, calm down, you're not helping," Rose interjected quietly from beside him, laying a soothing hand on his bicep.

"Fuck, Rose—"

She ignored him, looking at the woman and giving her a conciliatory smile.

"Excuse my friend, but he's very concerned about Bella. She's something of a wild child and this isn't the first time she's pulled a stunt like this. She's only seventeen and Edward here is her legal guardian, so if you know where she is you really need to tell us."

As Rose spoke, Vicky and Laurent became more and more agitated. Emmett having dropped his arm, Laurent wrapped both his hands round the back of his neck and looked askance at his girlfriend.

"Ah, shit, Vicky, James…" he groaned, unable to finish.

Vicky looked between Rose and Edward, a disbelieving look on her face.

"Are you kidding me? She's only seventeen?"

When they nodded, she swore softly under her breath.

Edward, at the end of his patience, stepped forward and grabbed her arm.

"What? Tell me," he demanded.

Rose looked up at him, unable to blame him now for his aggressive manner.

"She went with James—our friend. They… they've gone to the airport." She looked around at Laurent.

"Tell them, babe," he told her quietly.

She turned back to Edward.

"James is due to fly to Las Vegas this evening—"

Edward dropped her arm and shoved both hands into his hair, an appalled expression blooming across his face.

"Holy fuck, no… please tell me she's not planning on going with him!" he gasped in a tortured whisper.

Behind them, Emmett swore, but Rose recovered quickly, becoming all business.

"Do you know what time his flight is?"

"Um, I think it was nine o'clock," Vicky responded, biting her lip.

They all looked at their watches – it was nearly eight.

"Shit, Rose, we need to go," Edward exclaimed.

"Hang on, Edward." Rose looked back at Vicky. "Airport? Airline? James's surname?" she barked.

Vicky shook her head, a little flustered.

"Uh, Continental out of Newark. Um, and his name's Hunter—"

"What about hotel—do you know where he's staying?" Rose spoke over her.

Vicky frowned. "I'm not sure. Maybe the Flamingo? I really don't know. He's got a business lunch tomorrow at the Sands with some guy, but I don't think he was staying there. Sorry, I'm just not sure."

Rose nodded. "Emmett, go get us a taxi. If we luck out with the traffic we might just make it. Vicky? Would you please try and call James and tell him he can't take Bella out of the State, and he most definitely can't sleep with her—will you do that, please?" Rose scrabbled in her bag and produced a business card. "Here's my card. If you speak to James, please give me a call or ask him to call me. In fact, could you call me even if you don't get hold of him?"

Vicky nodded, taking the card and staring at it, before looking back at a departing Rose.

"He didn't know," she called, "none of us did. We thought she was older."

Rose gave a quick wave of her hand to acknowledge that she'd heard her, but neither she nor Edward stopped.

**~o0o~**

Bella sat next to James on United Flight 1656, waiting for the air-bridge to disconnect so they could pull away from the terminal. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her stomach felt like it had been taken over by a whole colony of butterflies, but when James passed her the glass of champagne the flight attendant had just served, holding his own glass up to clink it with hers, she smiled up at him, pushing aside her fear over the consequences of what she was doing.

"Here's to Vegas, baby," James laughed.

"Here's to having fun," Bella replied.

She took a sip and turned her head, ostensibly to look out of the window, but in reality she needed to conceal from James the feeling of trepidation which had suddenly—finally—wrapped itself around her with icy tentacles. Despite the alcohol she had consumed, she wasn't naive enough to imagine that there was any way back to Edward from this. It was monumentally stupid, and she was pretty sure she had now burned her bridges with him.

She looked round at James, who was smiling at her. She smiled back, thinking that he was nice, he was handsome, he was charming and he was fun. Her friendship with Edward lay in tatters at her feet, but maybe that was a good thing—now she would be forced to stop thinking of him as anything other than her guardian. Better, perhaps, that they were enemies rather than friends—better to have no hope than a little hope. Hope could be such a destructive force, making you believe there was something to hang on to when there really wasn't.

She leaned across the armrest and brushed her lips over James's; he immediately put his hand up to cup her cheek, leaning into the kiss and slipping his tongue between her parted lips. After a moment, Bella pulled away and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

James was a reasonable kisser, he made her feel good and maybe he might be someone she could care about. She didn't expect to fall in love, but there were worse options. Hey, they were going to Vegas. She could marry James and inherit her money and her company. She could buy Edward out and he could go do his own thing. That way they would never need to meet again—his guardianship would end if she married and he wouldn't need to feel burdened by his promise to her parents any longer. Then, when he was out of the way, if it didn't work out with James she could divorce him.

In her tired, desperate, drink-addled mind, it all seemed so simple, but the pain which lanced through her at this thought caught her utterly by surprise, and she gasped softly, holding her hand to her chest.

"Hey, baby, are you okay?" James frowned at her, setting his glass down on his folding table and taking Bella's drink and placing it next to his. He then reached over to take both her hands.

"Bella? What happened?"

Bella shook her head and looked at him, forcing a somewhat tremulous smile.

"Nothing, just excited." She was saved from further explanation when the Captain's voice came over the intercom.

"_Cabin crew, doors to automatic and cross check."_

The flight attendants busied themselves clearing away glasses and making sure tables and seatbelts were secured before disappearing to strap themselves in. Shortly thereafter, the plane started to back away from the terminal.

They were on their way, and nothing Edward could do now was going to stop her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as ever, to MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"Edward, I am not letting you go on your own, and that's final!"

Rose was standing practically nose-to-nose with Edward, hands on hips and a steely glint in her eye.

Edward looked at Emmett, who just shrugged. "She's probably right, man, you need someone to go with you who can deal with Bella _and_ stop you from going ballistic."

Edward narrowed his eyes, but conceded that these were valid points. He frowned at Rose, who rolled her eyes.

"Don't say it, Edward—I'm not particularly jumping for joy at the thought of spending six hours in a confined space with you either. Now, let's get out of here and try and get some sleep. I'll see if I can get us into The Flamingo."

It had taken them almost an hour to get to Newark because of an accident on the New Jersey Turnpike, which had rendered Edward practically incoherent with rage and frustration. As a result, they got to the terminal after the gate had closed on the last flight out of New York to Las Vegas, which had set Edward off on a rant of epic proportions, accusing the airline of condoning and enabling everything from statutory rape and child molestation to sex trafficking, a tirade which earned him an hour in a secure room with two burly security guards.

Upon being released, he found Rose and Emmett waiting for him, looking as pissed off as he felt.

"Okay, Edward, if you've finished having a completely counter-productive tantrum, let me tell you what's happening," Rose told him pointedly.

"I've booked tickets for you and me on the 6.45AM American Airlines flight tomorrow morning. It gets in at twenty before nine, which is the earliest we can get there, plus it's out of JFK, which is a lot better than hacking over to this shithole again at the crack of dawn."

It was at this point that Edward tried to persuade Rose that he could do this on his own, which she, of course, shut down in her usual no-nonsense manner, ably backed up by Emmett.

In the end, Edward merely nodded, his dejection written plainly across his face.

"But, if that bastard lays one finger on her, I'm gonna rip his fucking arms off and use them to beat the shit out of him, I swear to God, Rose!" he growled.

"Edward, please don't make this worse than it already is. You have to accept that it's likely Bella will sleep with this James guy tonight – you've said before that you believe she's not a virg—"

She stopped abruptly when Emmett squeezed her shoulder, belatedly recognising what he had already seen—that this line of conversation was pure torture for Edward.

"Sorry, Edward—I'm not trying to make it worse for you," she told him quietly.

He looked up, his eyes full of so much pain, she was momentarily taken aback. He chuckled, the sound utterly devoid of humour.

"It's okay, Rose. You're right, of course, and I'm being naïve, I know. I promise I will try very hard not to resort to physical violence, but that bastard's not getting off scot-free—I _will_ call the cops and have him arrested for anything and everything the Federal law allows, including statutory rape." He kept his voice low, but his tone was deadly, leaving his companions in no doubt that he would carry through with his threat.

Desperate to placate and calm him, Rose put her hand lightly on his arm. "Hey, look, you never know, they may be so drunk by the time they get to their hotel that neither of them will be capable of… you know… doing anything."

Edward almost wanted to laugh, not only at Rose's misplaced optimism, but also at her sudden coyness when it came to talking about sex. At that moment, though, he was ridiculously grateful for her reticence, and his whispered 'thanks' was for her ears only.

Emmett put his arms round each of their shoulders, giving Rose a soft kiss on the temple, before shepherding them both towards the exit and thence home.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday 9 April 2011**

Early the next morning, Emmett dropped Edward and Rosalie at JFK's Terminal 8, and after very contrasting goodbyes, the two of them made their way, grim-faced, through security to domestic departures. Both were dressed casually, Edward in a soft, black leather bomber jacket over a grey t-shirt and thigh-hugging, faded 501s; Rose in a waist-length jacket in tan chamois leather, over dark-wash skinny jeans and a white t-shirt.

They spoke very little as they sipped coffee in the First Class lounge.

Rose checked in yet again with Vicky to see if she'd heard from James. It was still practically the middle of the night in Vegas, and she had little expectation that anything had changed since the night before when she'd got a call from Vicky saying she'd not been able to get hold of James, who clearly had his phone switched off.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" Edward asked, when Rose ended the call.

She looked at him, remaining silent for a moment as she appeared to mull over her response.

Sighing, she finally spoke. "Yeah, Edward, I do. I don't know her, of course, but I think she's really worried about her friend and the trouble he could get in, and if she'd spoken to him I'm pretty sure she'd be unable to hide it."

"So, what are we going to do when we get there?" Edward asked, putting his cup down and looking at Rose intently, as though she had the answers to the secrets of the universe and everything.

She lifted her cup to her lips, taking a sip and regarding Edward speculatively over the rim. After a moment, she put her drink down and rested her chin on her entwined hands.

"Just so's we're clear, Edward, I'll be expecting a very generous pay review come July, and a shit-ton of money as a bonus at Christmas." She arched an eyebrow at him.

Edward dropped his hands, placing them palm down on the table either side of his coffee cup.

"Rosalie, if we find Isabella and get her home, you can pretty much name your price!" he told her.

"Be careful, Edward, that's kind of a rash promise."

"Not 'til it's in writing, Rose," Edward deadpanned.

Rose shook her head, deciding to ignore him. "Now—our game plan, Rose. How are we going to play this?"

They continued to discuss what they would do when they arrived in Vegas until they boarded their flight, and Rose was pleased to see that Edward was a good deal calmer than he'd been the night before.

On the flight, both of them were tired—Edward, in particular, had passed a restless and disturbed night—and by mutual, unspoken agreement, they kept their own counsel, dozing off and on throughout the flight.

**~o0o~**

As the Boeing 737 rolled up to the terminal at McCarran International Airport, Edward was pleased to note they were some twenty minutes early. The captain had earlier informed them that the ground temperature was a very pleasant 75 degrees Fahrenheit, which was a relief—he didn't need the desert heat to raise his temperature or his blood pressure any more than was already the case.

They disembarked quickly, heading through the terminal to the cab stand, and were soon on their way into town. Rose had secured rooms at The Flamingo—a standard double for herself and a two-bedroom suite for Edward, on the assumption that they would find Bella today. They would stay overnight to recover from the long flight and the time difference, returning to New York on Sunday.

Rose checked in whilst Edward tried Bella's phone again. She smiled at the clerk and asked him if their friend, James Hunter, had already arrived, but was disappointed when she was told that Mr Hunter had cancelled his reservation.

_Crap, that means he's covering his tracks, which means he knows about Bella's age but he's avoiding giving her up… which means he's up to no good._

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, but Edward had clearly developed bat ears in the last few hours and turned to grab her arm.

"What?"

Rose took a deep breath through her nose. "She's not here—no James, no Bella. And it looks like James knows Bella's underage."

"Shit! _Shit! _What the hell do we do now?" Edward looked at Rose wide-eyed, a desperate edge to his voice.

"Calm down, Edward. Okay, first we get out of this lobby and go upstairs so we can talk. Come on."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the elevator, where a bellboy was already waiting with their hand-luggage.

Upstairs, Edward paced the living room of his suite whilst waiting for Rose, whose room was a few doors down. As soon as he heard the doorbell chime, he rushed to let her in.

"Well?" he demanded.

Rose rolled her eyes and pulled him over to one of the large, cream couches to sit down.

"Okay, first of all, I've ordered breakfast to be sent up here—"

"Breakfast? Fuck that, Rose, I'm not hungry. We need—"

Rose held her hand up. "Shut up, Edward. I'm starving, and so must you be. If we're going to find Bella in this town, we're going to need all our wits about us, and being lightheaded from lack of food won't help either of us. We're going to eat breakfast and then we can start checking the main hotels. We know James is meeting someone at The Sands at lunchtime, so we can call there first.

"Now, I've rung Vicky again. I figured that James will have to turn his phone on at some point if he's got an appointment, in case his client or whatever calls."

"And?" he asked, starting to become hopeful again in the face of Rose's pragmatism and efficiency. It had not escaped him that, despite his success and his reputation as a ruthless CEO, this business with Bella seemed to have reduced him to a bumbling and incompetent fool.

"And she says she still hasn't spoken to him, but she got a text saying everything was fine and not to worry."

"_What?_ What the fuck does that mean—didn't she tell him that Bella's only seventeen?"

"Yeah, she did, which is why I think we have to assume he's got an agenda."

Edward ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard. He vaguely wondered if this weekend would render him bald.

"Christ, Rose, you can't say stuff like that to me. What the hell do you mean?"

"Well, apparently Vicky texted him back to ask him if he was staying here and he said no, but he wouldn't tell her where he was—sent a message saying he was busy and would get back to her."

Edward got up and walked over to the sliding glass door which let out onto the balcony, opening it and stepping out. He leaned on the balustrade and looked out over the city which, in the bright morning sunlight, looked a little tawdry.

_Where are you, Bella? What the hell are you playing at?_

The doorbell chimed and he looked round to see Rose opening the door to let in the waiter with their breakfast. The thought of eating made him feel nauseous, but he knew Rose was right and that they both needed to get a decent meal inside them before they started their search.

He went back inside to join her, discovering that he was, in fact, hungrier than he had imagined and was, once again, grateful for Rose's intervention.

"Thanks, Rose," he said softly, when they'd finished eating. "And thanks for… well, for being here with me. I'm not sure I could do this on my own."

Rose patted his shoulder. "We'll find her, Edward," was all she said.

**~o0o~**

Three hours later, they were no nearer to finding James. None of the hotels they called had a reservation in his name, and when they arrived at The Sands they discovered that James had cancelled his lunch reservation.

Edward and Rose sat in the bar and thought about what this meant. Rose started ticking off her fingers.

"One, he knows Bella's age, but is showing no sign of being concerned about that. Two, he won't tell his friend where he's staying, and he's either cancelled his appointment or changed the venue, so we know he's definitely hiding from us. Three, if he was going to bring Bella home, he would have given up the information to Vicky and would likely have sent Bella to us or, at the very least, allowed her to arrange a meeting. He hasn't done that, which means he's still in Vegas, but avoiding us. Why, then, is he still here?"

Edward stared at Rose and he could feel his heartbeat quicken.

"Holy fuck, you don't think he's… what if she told him about her inheritance?" Edward propped his elbows on the bar and dropped his head into his hands.

Rose frowned. "What? Are you saying he's _abducted_ her? That he's going to ransom her?" she asked, appalled.

Edward lifted his head and looked at her. "Worse, Rose."

"Worse? What's worse than kidnap?"

"Marriage," he said, so softly she thought she might have misheard him.

"You did not just say 'marriage', Edward, please tell me you didn't."

"You know how impetuous she is, Rose—"

"Bella is not that stupid, I refuse to believe it," Rose said, dismissing Edward's fear out of hand.

"I fucking hope you're right!" he retorted, but inside he seriously doubted it.

**~o0o~**

Earlier that morning, Bella had awoken in a strange bed in what seemed to be a budget hotel, with a thumping headache and a stomach which was not so much upset as downright furious. She was grateful to discover she was alone, and didn't take much time to ponder on James's whereabouts before stumbling to the bathroom, where she vomited copiously.

She emerged half an hour later, feeling slightly more human, having showered and washed her hair, to find James sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him.

He grinned at her, taking in the fact that the towel she had wrapped around her gave him a great view of her awesome legs, and allowing himself to fantasize about what lay beneath.

Much to his disgruntlement, Bella had fallen asleep—or, more accurately, passed out—as soon as they had arrived at the hotel the night before, having consumed a liberal quantity of alcohol on the flight. Even so, James had briefly toyed with the idea of stripping her naked and fucking her regardless, but had quickly rejected the idea—he really wasn't into necrophilia, which is what he imagined it would feel like to have sex with a near comatose Bella. It would just have to wait and he could be patient… up to a point.

During the flight, Bella had become more and more verbose, as he kept the drinks coming, and it seemed that he had really hit the jackpot. Bella was an heiress, who would inherit her entire fortune and a thriving, multi-million dollar family business upon her eighteenth birthday or upon her marriage—and here they were, flying to the marriage capital of America. He now also knew that she carried a torch for Edward Cullen, the guy she'd been hiding from at the bar, who also happened to be her legal guardian.

So, okay, Bella was underage, but James had a plan—a plan which involved keeping Bella drunk or high—or both—and thoroughly entertained. He would show her a good time, and girls like Bella—nursing a broken heart and hurt feelings, who were lonely, homesick and vulnerable to boot—were very susceptible. As luck would have it, he had been able to make contact with a friend of a friend who worked at the Clark County Courthouse, who could provide the appropriate documentation for a price and who had pointed him in the direction of a wedding chapel which wouldn't ask too many questions. He had until 5.00PM to get there and he was pretty sure he could get Bella in the mood by then. It would involve a lot of TLC, plus he would need to subtly drip poison into her ear about Edward and his friends in order to alienate and isolate her from them. He was confident they wouldn't be caught by Bella's guardian—at least, not in time for him to upset James's plan—as he had changed hotels at the last minute, checking into a small, cheap, fairly obscure establishment using a false name. He had also cancelled his lunch meeting at The Sands—which action would likely get him fired, but if all went to plan he wouldn't need that shitty job anyway.

Bella was amenable, he was sure, and if he could keep her that way he would be home and dry—and a very rich man. Even if Cullen did manage to catch up with them before they left Vegas, the chances were good that it would be a done deal by then and he would either be married to an heiress or Cullen would be paying him a fortune to agree to an annulment. Either way, he was going to come out of this set for life. And should Cullen try to get the cops involved, or declare the marriage invalid, he would threaten a media scandal, telling them he had no knowledge of the girl's age and paint her as an out-of-control, man-hungry whore.

For now, he watched as Bella grabbed some clothes from the designer bags they had acquired at the airport and slipped back into the bathroom to dress.

When she emerged, fully clothed, he smiled at her and patted the bed, inviting her to sit beside him.

"Okay, sweetlips, let's go get a bite to eat and then start hitting the hotspots, hmm?"

"Umm, James, I was thinking—I really ought to contact Edward, you know, to let him know I'm okay?"

Bella got up to retrieve her phone from her bag, but James stopped her by wrapping his hand around her wrist.

"Wait a minute, baby. Look, I didn't want to have to tell you this—I was hoping you wouldn't want to call him—but, well, I got his number from your phone earlier, while you were still asleep…" he held his hand up to forestall what she was going to say. "I know, I know, I probably shouldn't have done it, but I knew you'd be worried this morning and I wanted to let him know you were okay and… well…"

He trailed off, looking a little sheepish.

"What? James, tell me!"

"Please try not to take this the wrong way, okay? I mean, I'm sure he didn't mean it like it sounded… maybe I caught him at a bad moment at work or something…"

"For God's sake, James, just spit it out. What did he say?" Bella demanded anxiously.

He sighed, sliding his hand down and taking her hand in his, turning it over to rub her palm with his thumb.

"He said he couldn't deal with this now and that he wasn't going to run around after you. He, uh, said that you could do what you want, but to not come running to him when it all goes wrong."

James was looking at Bella's hand, which he held in both of his, but then looked carefully up at her face.

Bella looked away, then suddenly stood up, pulling her hand out of James's hold. She fought hard to keep the tears at bay, taking deep breaths and wrapping her arms tightly around her midriff, but it was impossible. The pain induced by Edward's seeming abandonment was devastating and she felt her knees give way.

Before she could fall to the floor, however, James was up and off the bed and holding her in his arms as she wept silent tears against his chest. He rocked her gently, crooning soft words to her until she stopped crying and looked up at him, a determined look on her face, despite her watery, red-rimmed eyes.

"Give me a minute, please, James, I just need to wash my face," she said, pulling away. He let her go and she once again disappeared into the bathroom.

He smiled to himself—_phase one accomplished_.

Bella t00k another 10 minutes, but finally returned to the bedroom, her face washed and make-up repaired. She gave him a big smile that didn't reach her eyes, and linked her arm through his.

"Okay, where are we going—I'm tired of feeling like shit, I wanna have some fun."

"Oh, baby, then I'm your man." He grinned down at her, then took her hand and led her out of the room—_phase two in progress_.

**~o0o~**

Two and a half miles south east of The Homestead Hotel, from which Bella and James were currently exiting, in a top floor suite of The Flamingo, Edward was on the phone whilst Rosalie sat at the dining table, tapping furiously at her laptop keyboard. Beside her was a small pile of documents she had instructed Edward to bring with him when they left New York.

"Please, Jasper. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an absolute emergency…" Edward ran his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth across the living room of his suite, a pained expression on his face. He sighed, pausing to stare unseeingly out of the picture windows overlooking the Vegas skyline.

He had called an old friend back in New York who he desperately hoped could help him. Jasper Whitlock had studied computer science at MIT and was just about the most technologically adept person Edward knew. He had offered him a job at one point, but Jasper didn't like being tied down, preferring to hire himself out on an ad hoc basis, earning more than enough to ensure that he rarely had to dip into his substantial trust fund.

"Jazz, in the unlikely event you get found out I will hire the best lawyers money can b—" Edward suddenly held the phone away from his ear, looking at it as if it had bitten him, whilst the tinny sound of the person on the other end raged loud enough for Rose to hear across the room.

When it stopped, Edward brought the phone gingerly back to his ear.

"Okay, I admit it, I'm a shitty friend and you don't owe me a goddamn thing. But I'm not asking for me, I'm doing this for Isabella. She's in trouble, Jazz, and she doesn't even know it. If I fail her now, I'm scared shitless that she'll do something she'll regret for the rest of her life. And I know you don't know her, but I'm begging you, Jazz… please!"

And perhaps it was the fact that he'd never heard Edward beg before, or maybe it was the way his voice broke on the last word, but apparently Jasper relented and agreed to do as Edward asked.

"Thank you, Jasper. I owe you," he said quietly, before ending the call.

When he had hung up, Edward dropped heavily onto the couch behind him, tossing his phone onto the coffee table and burying his face in his hands.

Rose got up from the dining table and came over to sit next to him.

"He's going to do it," she said, a statement rather than a question.

Edward dragged his hands down his face and lifted his head. "Yeah. He said as long as her phone's switched on he should be able to triangulate the signal and work out to within fifty metres where she is."

"What if it's not switched on?"

"He said he'd keep trying."

"And if she doesn't switch it on at all or it's dead?"

Edward gave Rose a sour look. "In that case, he says he might be able to track her credit card. It's a lot tougher to hack into the system, but he said he would try if the phone angle doesn't work."

"Ohh-kaay. So we need to start thinking about what we do if he can't track her phone or her credit card—"

"Christ, Rose, let's deal with one disappointment at a time, eh?"

Edward jumped up and stalked back over to the sliding glass doors, pulling one back and stepping onto the balcony. After a couple of minutes, Rose joined him there, mimicking his position as he bent over and rested his forearms on the balustrade.

It was mid-afternoon and the sun was still high, bathing them in desert warmth.

"Where is she, Rose?" Edward asked, his voice low, and a little desperate.

"We'll find her, Edward, I'm sure of it."

"Are you, Rose?" Edward turned his head to look at her. "How can you be so sure? I know I'm not."

"One way or the other we will find her, and we'll deal with whatever fuckery she's created as and when we need to. Okay?"

Edward gave her a wry smile. "Okay, Rose, whatever you say."

"That's what I like to hear."

They remained where they were for a few minutes, taking in the view, until Edward straightened up and turned to face Rose.

"I can't just hang around here waiting for Jazz to call. I know it's probably a waste of time going out to look for her, but if I stay here I'll go crazy. I know it's a long shot, but I'm going to start trawling around the casinos. At the very least, it'll give me something to do."

Rose nodded. "Okay, it's probably a good idea. You'll just drive me ape-shit if you stay here, so you might as well give it a go. You never, know, you might luck out."

Edward snorted. "Yeah, right, because I've been so fucking lucky to date."

"This isn't anything to do with luck, Edward, just poor judgement. Now go take a shower and get changed."

Thirty minutes later, Edward hit The Strip and started checking out the casinos. He knew his chances of discovering Bella were slim to zero, but this way, he at least felt like he was doing _something_. His first stop was Caesar's Palace, just across the road from The Flamingo. He doubted they would come this close to the Flamingo, as James had to know that would be the first place they would head when they arrived, but he had to start somewhere, right?

* * *

**END NOTES: **Please note that I don't know Las Vegas at all, so everything here is courtesy of my research. I have also used a good deal of artistic licence, so please forgive any glaring inconsistencies or errors.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as ever, to Team Fluffy - MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

As Edward entered Caesar's Palace, James and Bella were just exiting Circus Circus, barely a mile up The Strip. Bella was a little drunk, although probably not as drunk as James assumed her to be. Generally speaking, her childhood clumsiness had pretty much disappeared with her transition into adolescence, but alcohol tended to make her revert to a time when she seemed incapable of traversing a clear, flat piece of ground without tripping. To James, who didn't know her at all, her unsteady gait was a sure sign that she was well on her way to total inebriation. He decided that he needed to keep a close eye on her, though, to ensure she was drunk enough to accede to his scheme, yet sober enough to go through the necessary routine and also to remain conscious enough for them to consummate the marriage. He knew the latter wasn't absolutely crucial to the success of his plan… but oh, how he wanted her.

But for the moment, Bella was having fun. James was good company and she felt grown up, yet carefree—except for a niggling little voice at the back of her mind which she determinedly pushed away.

James guided them northwards along The Strip, knowing that the Clark County Courthouse was the other side of West Charleston Boulevard. From there, they would come back down The Strip to Elvis's Love Chapel—not exactly romantic, but his contact at the Courthouse was going to make sure he was around to process the marriage licence without any annoying problems with ID. He had, in turn, recommended that particular wedding chapel as one which would marry them in short order, with no questions asked. It was costing James a month's salary, but would be well worth it—what was it they said? You have to speculate to accumulate? How true!

They headed into The Riviera, and James calculated that they could spend about an hour here before they needed to make their way to the Courthouse.

An hour in which he needed to persuade her to marry him.

Inside, Bella wanted to go straight to the craps table, as she'd had some luck in the previous casino. She used her card to buy chips, and wondered for a moment why Edward hadn't asked the credit company to put a block on it—but she supposed he was too busy thinking about other stuff to even worry about it, and promptly pushed away the unpleasant thought that he simply didn't care.

As it happened, Edward had, indeed, given some thought to cancelling her card, but decided against it. For one, he thought that there might be a way to track her spending, and for another, he didn't want her to be without a means of escape, should she need one and he couldn't get to her. However, when he checked the account online, he had winced somewhat when he had seen how much she'd spent in the last week—he would undoubtedly do more than wince when he saw how much she'd spent today!

In the Riviera, Bella's luck was holding and she was up $1,000, a fact which had sent her shrieking into James's arms more than once. When his luck at the tables didn't match hers, he decided to take a break from the casino. Taking her hand he led her off the floor and up to the Queen Victoria British Pub, which made Bella laugh out loud. He had never been to England, but he doubted that a "British" pub in a Las Vegas casino would be particularly authentic; however, he decided there was a certain… serendipity to it.

They found a table in a fairly quiet corner and, unlike a real British pub, a waitress quickly appeared to take their order. James turned away from Bella to whisper to the waitress.

Turning back, he put his arm around Bella's shoulders and pulled her close to him, tipping her chin with his other hand so that he could plant a kiss on her mouth.

Bella smiled up at him just as the waitress returned with a bottle of champagne, which she opened at the table and poured expertly into two tall champagne flutes.

"Ooh, shampers… what are we celebrating?" Bella asked.

"Oh, I don't know… how about the fact that I met the most amazing woman yesterday and, by some extraordinary piece of luck, she's still with me, and we're both here, together, in Las Vegas, the love capital of the world."

James kissed her again, but Bella had started giggling.

"The luurrvve capital of the world? Are you sure?" She looked at James wide-eyed, but couldn't suppress her giggles.

"Sure. More people get married here than anywhere else in the world—that's got to mean something."

"Okay then, I'll drink to that!"

Bella picked up her glass and clinked it against James's, before taking a large swig and giggling as the bubbles went up her nose. James was keeping an eye on her consumption, and as she grabbed the bottle to top up her glass yet again, he put a restraining hand over hers.

"Hey, baby, you need to slow down… pace yourself a little."

He lightened his remark with a smile and nuzzled the hair just above her ear.

"Cos, you know, I've got plans for us tonight, baby," he whispered, taking her ear lobe between his teeth and running his tongue along the edge.

Bella shivered. "Oh? And what if I've decided to save myself for marriage?" she asked softly.

James couldn't believe his luck… again. She'd just given him the perfect "in" without him even having to try.

"Oh, sweetlips, I'd marry you in a heartbeat."

He slid two fingers along her jaw and pulled her face around to look at him.

"I know we hardly know each other, that we've only just met, but I've got such a good feeling about us, Bella. I want you, and I think you want me. There are worse reasons to marry." He spoke softly but with such determination, his Arctic blue eyes fixed intently on hers, and when he finished, he closed the tiny distance between them and kissed her, long and slow, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

Bella slid her hand into his hair, only peripherally registering the slight greasiness in her alcohol-fogged mind, and forced herself not to imagine what this might feel like with Edward.

Pulling back at last, James rested his forehead against hers. "Let's do it, Bella, let's get married. I'm so close to falling for you," he pleaded.

Bella gave him a lazy smile. Had she been a little less drunk—and in a lot less emotional pain—it's likely she would have rejected his proposal out of hand, laughing at his foolishness.

But she _was_ drunk, and she _was_ in pain, and she thought, _why not?_

James's words of this afternoon, when he'd told her that Edward couldn't be bothered to even send someone after her, let alone come for her himself, cut her more deeply than she was prepared to admit, even to herself.

She also thought, _ha, stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Edward._

And all at once, the immature, thoughtless and petulant teenager that resided within pushed herself to the fore, ready and willing to demonstrate a total lack of sense or prudence.

"Okay," she said.

James let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Okay? Okay, you'll marry me? Now?"

Bella laughed. "Yes, James. Okay, I'll marry you. Now. Here. It'll be fun!"

"Holy shit, she said yes," he cried, jumping to his feet and pulling her up with him.

He kissed her again, soundly, before throwing his head back and laughing again with pure and genuine delight.

Bella grinned at him, his obvious joy infectious, then grabbed the two champagne flutes from the table, handing one to James and clinking it with her own.

"Here's to us! So, what do we do now?" she asked.

James could barely contain the wide grin on his face. "Oh, yeah, right. Well, I've got a friend at the courthouse who could probably rustle us up a licence, then we head for a chapel – there's one a few blocks from here that we could go to on the way back. Let me make a call."

"Okay, you make the call and I'll go to the loo," she said, looking around for the ladies' bathroom.

James nodded and started punching numbers.

Bella tottered, somewhat unsteadily, to the bathroom, where she found a cubicle and locked herself in. She pulled her phone out of her bag and fired it up.

As soon as the screen lit up the phone started beeping, and she went into her messages, deleting Edward's without reading. She then started texting.

**Woo hoop, guess whs getin marred lol**

**~o0o~**

As it turned out, what with their extended celebration and Vegas traffic, James and Bella got to the Courthouse really late, well after 5.00PM, and his guy they were due to meet was getting impatient. Taking them into an empty office which didn't appear to be in use, he pulled a couple of pieces of paper out of a drawer.

"Listen, you're late and I've gotta run, like, _now_. Here's the licence, but you'll have to fill in the details yourselves, I haven't got time to fuck about with it."

"No problem, Brady, this is great, I owe you, man."

"Damn straight you do, James."

James turned to Bella. "Can you hang on here a minute, babe? I just need to have a quick word with Brady."

Bella nodded absently, plonking herself down on one of the office chairs. She felt lightheaded and a bit disconnected, and wished she could focus a little more clearly on what was going on.

James opened the door and nodded his head towards the corridor, to indicate he wanted his friend to follow him out. He closed the door when they exited the room, and turned to Brady.

"Man, I gotta go or I'm gonna be in deep shit," the man wheedled, clearly irritated.

"I know, I know. I just want to check—all I have to do is fill in our names and personal details and that's it?"

"Yeah, yeah—put whatever the fuck you like on it, as long as the names are right. Then just give it to Dickie at the chapel. He'll sort you out, no problem—500 hundred bucks and he'll marry you to a plank of wood. And I'm gone, man. If you don't follow me out in the next five minutes, you'll have to go to the front desk so Bert can let you out, 'cause all the door alarms will be armed."

And with that, the man literally sprinted away from James to an emergency exit door at the end of the corridor, crashing the release bar down and disappearing from sight as the door slammed shut behind him.

James smiled and opened the door of the room.

"Come on, babe, we've got somewhere better to be."

Bella got up and went to James, her gait a little unsteady, putting her arms round his neck and reaching up to kiss him.

A few minutes later, the security guy in the lobby let them out and they descended the Courthouse steps, from the bottom of which they hailed a cab.

**~o0o~**

Edward was on The Strip, heading north towards The Riviera, and about ready to tear his hair out. He had just hung up on Rose and was contemplating trying Bella again, when the phone in his hand started vibrating. Without even checking the display he accepted the call and put the handset to his ear.

"Cullen," he snapped.

"I've got her, man, she just turned on her phone," a familiar Texan drawl announced.

"Jasper? Fuck, are you sure?" Edward demanded, hardly daring to get his hopes up.

"Yeah, she was on The Strip, somewhere near The Riviera but then she headed north into the business district, looks like she was near the Courthouse."

"Holy fuck, Jasper, he's taken her to get a marriage licence! Please tell me they're still there." Edward could feel the panic welling up inside him now, as his worst nightmare seemed to be coming true. He started looking out for a taxi, but Jasper's voice forestalled him

"Nah, looks like she's heading back towards The Strip… hang on, she's stopped—"

"Where, dammit?"

"I'm just… looks like the corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and East Charleston—"

"Got it. Thanks, Jasper. I won't forget this."

Edward hung up and immediately pressed the speed-dial for Rose, at the same time throwing his arm out to flag down a passing cab. Climbing quickly in the back, he heard Rose pick up.

"Hang on a second, Rose." He leaned forward to address the driver. "Is there a wedding chapel anywhere near the junction with West Charleston Boulevard?"

The driver looked over his shoulder, noting the urgency in Edward's voice.

"Uh, yeah, there's an Elvis chapel—"

"Take me there," Edward told him.

Without another word, the driver faced front and started to pull out into the traffic.

"Edward?" Rose's voice carried tinnily in the back of the car.

He raised the phone to his ear and told her where he was going, his voice flat, emotionless.

"I'll meet you there in ten minutes. Please, _please_ don't lose your cool, Edward. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, Rose," he said and ended the call.

**~o0o~**

The Reverend Dickie Fenderson flicked his cape over his shoulders and surreptitiously picked the ever-tightening blue rhinestone cat-suit out of his ass, as he watched the latest couple who had decided, most likely on a drunken whim, to get married, his experienced and somewhat cynical eye immediately registering two things: that they probably didn't know one another that well, and that the girl, who was remarkably pretty, was completely shit-faced. This latter fact did not actually require a great deal of perception on Dickie's part, as it was as plain as the nose on your face. Neither did it unduly bother him.

Smoothing his greasy black quiff, Dickie turned on his best Elvis smirk and greeted them in a woeful impersonation of The King.

"Howdy, love birds, you lookin' to get hitched?"

**~o0o~**

Edward sat in the back of the taxi feeling like he was in one of those films where the person in the foreground stands still while the whole world hurtles around him at breakneck speed. As his cab stopped again behind the enormous stretch Humvee they'd been tailing for the last five minutes in the stop-start traffic, he was currently wondering if he could run the remaining mile and a half quicker.

As the traffic continued to inch along, with no view past the Humvee of what the hold-up might be, Edward was about ready to spontaneously combust; rage, frustration, impotence and panic warring inside of him and filling his stomach with acid.

He leaned forward and rapped on the toughened plexiglass divider.

"I'll give you a $500 tip if you can get the fuck off The Strip and find a way round this jam. I need to get to East Charleston _NOW!" _Close to the end of his tether, Edward couldn't prevent himself from shouting the last word.

The cab driver glanced up into his rear-view mirror, clearly deciding that Edward looked like a man who was good for it, before peeling off the main drag and heading down East Desert Inn Road to cut through the back streets and up across Sahara Avenue towards Charleston.

Nearly twenty minutes after he got the call from Jasper, Edward thrust a bundle of banknotes at the taxi driver and jumped out of the car, looking up at the Elvis Presley Chapel of Heavenly Love. Inside, he could hear the strains of 'Love Me Tender' being played on a Hammond organ. He looked around but could see no sign of Rose, which meant she had either been delayed, as he had been, or she was already inside. Either way, he wasn't waiting another moment.

Edward ran up the steps to the front door and pushed it open. He found himself in a small lobby with a desk to one side, behind which sat a rather fake-looking blonde with way too much hair, makeup and silicone. She looked up from the magazine she was reading and, on seeing the Adonis before her, gave him a bright smile whilst saying a small prayer that it wasn't his own wedding he was attending.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, all sweetness and light.

"Isabella Swan—is she here?" Edward barked, uninterested in the niceties.

The girl pursed her lips, then looked away towards her computer screen.

"Swan, hmm, I don't think so… what was the first name again?"

"Isabella… Bella… I'm not sure which name she would use." Edward frowned at the sceptical look the girl was giving him. "Please—can you check again. She's got brown hair, about 5'4" tall, long legs, heart-shaped face… beautiful… you'd remember her."

The blonde regarded him with a knowing look—she'd seen this kind of thing before. A guy loses his girlfriend and then finds out she's marrying someone else and tries to stop it.

"That could be the girl who went in earlier, she was with a fair-haired guy, but you're probably too late, they'll be out in a minute…" But she realised she was talking to thin air, as Edward had thrown himself at the door, which was, at that very moment, slamming back against the wall.

The view through the open door revealed to Edward a tall, sandy-haired man of about 35, who had been bending down to kiss a dark-haired girl who was partially obscured by the taller man's body. Beyond them was a tubby Elvis impersonator holding a small bible.

Edward's first thought nearly brought him to his knees. _I'm too late. Oh please, God, no._

As the door crashed back against the wall the bride and groom both looked around to see Edward striding towards them, whilst Elvis frowned at the disturbance —this guy didn't look like he was here to wish the bride and groom luck.

"What the… who the fuck are you?" the groom enquired, his voice a mixture of anger and trepidation.

"Bel—" Edward stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest, as he took in the scene before him.

And now he actually did drop to his knees—slowly, like a mighty tree being felled—and buried his face in his hands. A low noise emanated from him that sounded almost like a sob, and the couple's surprise and anger gradually morphed into sympathy for the strikingly handsome, well-dressed man who, nevertheless, had clearly been brought low by a woman.

The dark-haired girl looked up at her new husband and then pulled away from him, approaching Edward as one might approach an injured but unpredictable dog. Placing her hand gently on his shoulder, she bent slightly to try and see his face.

Edward flinched at the woman's light touch and looked up into sympathetic hazel eyes.

"Are you okay, honey?" she asked gently.

"You're not…" Edward looked around the small chapel, but the only other person there, apart from Elvis, was a very overweight woman of about 50, with a head of thinning, platinum blonde hair, who was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the dais.

"I'm not what, honey?"

Edward's eyes drifted back to the bride.

"You're not Bella." Edward closed his eyes, the relief so sharp, so all consuming, he could hardly register it.

"No, I'm Tammy, and this is my beau, Clayton. Did you lose your girl, honey?"

Edward sighed, and got up off his knees, towering over the diminutive girl.

"I suppose I did, but I'm going to find her. I thought she came here, but she must have gone somewhere else."

Edward felt defeated. Even if he found her, he would probably be too late now anyway.

In front of him, Elvis stepped down from the dais.

"Maybe she went to Elvis's Love Chapel down the road, son," the man offered kindly.

Edward's head shot up. "I thought—"

Elvis smiled. "Common mistake, son. This is The Elvis Presley Chapel of Heavenly Love."

"Thank you… and I apologise… for the intrusion," and he turned and ran out the door.

As he emerged onto the street, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

"Edward! Where are you?" Rose cried.

He raised his eyes to the heavens, explaining his mistake. Suddenly he heard a car's horn beeping long and loud and he looked to his right. About two hundred yards up the road he could see a car parked and it was flashing it's lights.

"Can you see me, Edward?"

"Yeah, I see you. Is she there?" he asked as he started running towards the parked taxi.

"I was just about to go in but I was looking for you."

"Just get the fuck… in there… Rose," Edward panted, as he ran flat out. He could now clearly see Rose as she walked towards the building, and hung up his phone. Minutes later he burst through the door where he had seen her enter and followed the sound of 'Fools Rush In.'

_How fucking appropriate!_

He pushed open another door just as he heard the words, "… pronounce you husband and wife."

For the second time in less than 10 minutes, Edward felt the crushing blow of disappointment, before his eyes caught up with his ears and he realised the couple standing in front of yet another fat Elvis, this time in a blue spangly one-piece, was not Bella and the elusive James.

"Edward!" Rose called out from his left and he swung around to see her standing between a clearly drunk Bella and a tall, well-built man of about 30, with dirty-looking blond hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing a cheap polyester suit.

James.

Edward's first reaction was to walk over to him and beat him to a pulp, but he was distracted by Bella, who, on hearing Rose's exclamation, turned around on unsteady legs and looked at him with a look of total and utter disbelief.

"Edward?" she whispered, as if she was afraid he might disappear in a puff of smoke if she said his name any louder. "You came!"

"Jesus, Bella!" Unable to say more, Edward lunged for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly.

"Fuck, Bella, I was so worried," he said into her hair.

With her face buried in his chest, Bella revelled in the heavenly scent of Edward—a scent she had no idea how to describe; it was soap, and clean, and musk, and… very male, very… Edward.

Without thinking twice, Bella slid her arms around his waist and held on as tightly as he, but after a moment she frowned and pulled back.

"What… why are you here? James said—"

To her surprise, she thought she heard a growl bubble up from Edward and looked up at his face in surprise.

Edward pushed her away, but still held on to her by her upper arms.

"I don't give a flying fuck what _James_ said," he told her, managing to make the other man's name sound like a dirty word. "What the fuck did you think you were playing at, Bella? Have you any idea the trouble you have caused?"

"But he said you didn't care, that you weren't interested in what I did!" she cried, turning her head to look at James, who was now staring at the floor looking decidedly shifty.

Edward fixed his eyes on James, giving him a look so venal, so laden with hatred and disgust, it was a wonder the man didn't just vaporise on the spot.

What he did do was start backing away, as he noticed that Edward's blonde companion had suddenly spotted the paperwork he had brought with him from the Courthouse, which he had been trying to get Bella to fill out since they arrived about 20 minutes ago. They had been kept waiting, as there was another wedding scheduled ahead of them, and Dickie had suggested they sit down and fill out the paperwork so he could just marry them as soon as he had despatched the other couple.

James had first asked Bella to fill in her information, but she just giggled and kept trying to kiss him, which he didn't really mind, but he was keen to get this done so they could get married and get out of here. In the end he had taken the rather crumpled forms from her and decided to fill them in himself, starting with Bella's information, but again she had been silly and uncooperative when he'd quizzed her. Defeated, he thought perhaps he should at least enter his own information, which was when the blonde—Rose—had made her very untimely entrance, following by Edward.

Now wilting under Edward's glare, but with the buffer of Rose and Bella between them, he decided that, with Rose's attention diverted, now might be a good time to get the hell out of Dodge. With Bella now being nothing more than an underage girl who he had transported across State lines, rather than his legally (or even illegally) wedded wife, he knew he was in deep shit. The best he could hope for was that he might slip away and they would be so glad to get back their poor little rich girl, they would forget all about him.

James risked a quick peek at Edward, who was also looking at the papers that Rose had retrieved, which she was holding out to him. Slowly backing away, he glanced around him and noticed that the other couple had disappeared as had the Reverend Dickie. He also noticed the illuminated 'Exit' sign across the room and, without giving Bella so much as a second thought, he spun around and sprinted towards the door before Edward or Rose could register that he'd gone.

"Shit!" Edward yelled, letting go of Bella and turning to follow the miscreant, only to be brought up short by Rose's hand firmly gripping his arm.

"Leave him, Edward. We have more important things to deal with," she said tersely.

"We should call the cops, Rose, he shouldn't be allowed to get away with this." Edward looked pained at the idea of letting James go.

"And what then, Edward? We tell the police. By the time they get on his trail he'll be on his way back to New York. So then they'll call in the Feds, and all of a sudden it's on Fox News—I can just see it now… 'English Rose heiress in cross-country sex chase as rivals vie for her hand.' Perfect. Is that what you want, Edward, to be immersed in a sex scandal? For Bella to be subjected to media speculation and intrusion?" She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

Edward stared at her for a moment and then looked at Bella, who was standing to one side, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she was cold. Catching his eye, she frowned slightly and looked away.

Walking back to her, Edward placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to look at him.

"Did you… did he… _shit!_ Did he… touch you, Bella?" He wanted to ask her outright if she fucked him, but just couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Bella was silent for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, we didn't… do anything," she told him, her voice barely audible.

With a sigh, Edward shook his head, but as he continued to stare at Bella, his expression turned pensive. A moment later, it seemed almost as though he had experienced an epiphany of sorts, and his expression turned to one of determination as he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist.

"Come on, let's go. Rose, bring those forms." He then jerked Bella's wrist so that she dropped her arms, and led her forcefully out of the seedy chapel. Rose looked bemused, but followed without comment.

Outside, the taxi was still waiting, and Edward opened the back door to usher the two women in, making sure Bella was sat between Rose and himself.

"See the wedding chapel down the road, buddy? The Elvis Presley Chapel of Heavenly Love? Stop outside."

The cab driver looked over his shoulder and gave Edward a quizzical look, but at Edward's dismissive wave, he turned on the engine and drove slowly down the road.

"Edward? What are you doing," Rose asked, her face a picture of confusion.

Bella just stared at him, her face blank, wondering when the axe was going to fall. She was still drunk, but was rapidly sobering up, and she knew it was just a matter of time before Edward went ballistic and grounded her for the rest of her natural life—or worse, sent her to some ghastly finishing school in Switzerland.

But he had come for her… he was _here, _in Vegas… for her. That had to mean something… right?

The cab had already stopped again, and Edward jumped out, leaning back into the car to grab Bella's hand and pull her out.

Rose exited by the other door and came round the back to join them, while Edward asked the driver to wait for them again, promising a large tip. She stood there waiting, her arms crossed over her chest, regarding Edward with a look which hovered between disdain and bemusement.

Turning away from the taxi, Edward took hold of Bella's hand again and headed towards the chapel he had so recently departed.

"Edward! What. Are. You. _Doing_?" Rose demanded, her foot tapping with irritation.

Without breaking stride, a compliant Bella following in his footsteps, Edward glanced back over his shoulder.

"What does it look like, Rose? I'm getting married."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as always, are due to my fab support team – my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, plus Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Bella came to an abrupt halt behind Edward, her arm straining as he tried to continue walking towards the door of the wedding chapel. Behind her, Rose dropped her arms to her sides, a look of complete shock on her face, which, with her eyes like saucers and her mouth a wide 'O' of surprise, was perfectly duplicated on Bella's face.

"Married?" Bella squeaked, at the same time as Rose spoke.

"What the fuck—"

Realising that Bella was literally digging her heels in, Edward stopped and turned towards her, but did not let go of her hand.

"Yes, Isabella, married. You seem hell-bent on it… it was, after all, your idea that we get married, so I'm just giving in and going along with it," he told her smoothly, as if he was talking about the weather.

Bella gawked at him. "What do you mean, my idea? What are you talking about?"

Edward closed the distance between them, stepping forward and placing himself directly in front of her, just inches separating them. Looking down at her, he smiled wolfishly.

"Don't you remember, Bella? In my office, the morning after your little escapade with your friends. I asked you what you wanted from me, and you said, why didn't I just marry you. Surely you can't have forgotten already. If Tanya hadn't chosen that precise moment to call… well, who knows what might have happened."

Edward squeezed the hand he had yet to relinquish, whilst his free hand came up and he ghosted the back of his fingers down her jaw.

Bella's breath hitched, as her eyes grew wider. She opened and closed her mouth several times, yet seemed to be singularly incapable of speech.

Rose's sudden appearance beside them brought both Edward and Bella out of the bubble they seemed to have wrapped around themselves.

"Is this true, Bella, you asked Edward to… to... _marry_ you?" she asked, her voice suffused with astonishment.

Bella turned her head to look at Rose, but her eyes were a little unfocussed, as she seemed to be trying to process what Edward had just said.

"I… uh… well, I mean… um… _maybe_?" Bella looked from Rose back to Edward, who was still looking at her with obsidian eyes, his lips twitching into a lopsided smirk.

"I… just don't know what to say, Edward. This is… crazy?"

Edward continued to stare at her for a moment, then turned to Rose.

"Could you give us a minute, please, Rose? Why don't you go inside and fill out the forms—did you bring the guardianship papers?"

Rose looked at Bella, who tore her gaze away from Edward and shrugged, acknowledging that it was okay for Rose to leave her alone with him.

Rose returned her gaze to Edward, momentarily, gave a curt nod and then went inside.

Out on the sidewalk, he continued to hold Bella's hand tightly in his, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her a little closer.

"You want to know if this is crazy? Of course it is," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "But if it's the only way I can keep you safe, to protect you from slimeballs like James, then I'll do it, and do it willingly."

"But—"

Edward brought his hand up from where it rested on her hip and placed two fingers gently over her lips.

"No buts, Bella. Just say yes. I promised Charlie I'd keep you safe and do everything in my power to protect you. Well, this is me keeping my promise. What do you say? Call it a marriage of convenience, a platonic partnership, if you want."

Bella gazed into the eyes which haunted all her dreams, at the beautiful face which had held her in its thrall for almost ten years, at the mouth she fantasized about having on her… everywhere.

And she made a decision.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to meet his again.

"I have one condition," she said, so softly he had to dip his head to catch her words.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a conditional yes."

His eyes narrowed a little, but he couldn't completely contain his smile.

"Ohh-kaaay. So what's the condition?" he asked, saying a small internal prayer that she wouldn't demand that they could have other relationships outside the marriage.

Bella could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks just thinking about what she wanted to say, looking down at the ground in order to conceal her embarrassment.

But Edward was having none of it, lifting her chin back up with the knuckle of his right index finger.

"Tell me, Bella."

She took a deep breath and raised her own hand to take hold of his where he was propping up her chin.

"Umm… I… uh… wantustoconsummatethemarriag e," she blurted out, a hot blush suffusing her entire upper body, and speaking so fast that at first Edward wasn't quite sure what she'd said.

"You want… _what?"_

Squeezing her eyes shut, Bella spoke to Edward's chest. "If we're going to be married I want it to be a proper marriage… you know… with, uh, _sex_ and, uh, stuff. I'm not interested in platonic. If you want me to be tied to you, then I want something too."

Edward looked down at the top of Bella's head, eternally grateful that they were no longer standing quite so close together, as his body's reaction to her words would, at this precise moment, be making itself painfully obvious to her.

He forced himself to focus. She wanted him to make love to her. He wanted that too, but he knew it was probably a bad idea—very bad indeed.

"And if I won't agree to your condition?" he asked lightly.

Bella's head shot up to look at him, an angry spark in her eyes.

"If you won't agree, then there's no point in getting married, as I will just petition for an annulment."

"Oh? On what grounds, may I ask?" he smirked.

"On the grounds, Edward, of non-consummation."

Edward couldn't help it; he snorted with derision.

"Really, Bella? And how exactly would you prove that?" he asked her, his tone indicating how ridiculous she was being.

She pulled away, tearing herself out of his arms and stepped backward, her arms coming up across her chest.

"Well, I think the fact that I'm a virgin might tip them off that I haven't been _fucked!_" she spat.

Edward gaped at her, a look of complete incredulity settling across his features, as he took in her defensive—and defiant—stance. Chin up, eyes blazing, hair fluttering about her head in the escalating desert breeze, she looked stunning… magnificent… lethal—she was Medusa, waiting to strike; she was Helen of Troy, for whom a war was fought and civilisations destroyed; she was Delilah, put on this earth to seduce and destroy unwary men.

And as it finally sank in that what she was saying was true, that she was untouched… intact, he became aware of a feeling of profound relief settling over him, leaving him almost light-headed. Indeed, it would not have been too much of an exaggeration to say that Edward was… exultant.

But caution overrode his initial delight and he quickly suppressed the wide smile which had threatened to overtake him. He would not—could not—allow Bella to see what it meant to him to know that she had not given up her virtue so lightly or so indiscriminately. She already had too much power over him, and should she ever come to realize quite how much power she truly possessed, he would surely be lost, broken on the wheel of her contempt.

So he tamped down his reaction, and took a step towards her. She didn't uncross her arms, but neither did she back away from him. He put his hands on her upper arms and pulled her gently towards him until she was once more just inches away. After a moment's hesitation, Bella finally dropped her arms to her side and forced herself to look up at Edward, meeting his calm but somewhat guarded gaze.

"So, last night… the Helmsley… all those times in Sussex when you stayed out all night partying… Are you telling me you never once... had sex?"

Bright spots of red suffused Bella's cheeks as she dropped her eyes to the ground, sighing heavily before replying, her voice muffled somewhat by the fact that she wouldn't look up.

"I know you have no reason to trust anything I say right now, but nothing ever happened. I mean, I know sometimes I was too drunk, but even when I wasn't… I just didn't want to… not with anyone except… well, not with any of them…"

"Oh, Bella, what am I to do with you?" He chuckled softly, but there was little humour in the sound.

_Whatever you want, Edward. Whatever the hell you want._

She said nothing, her gaze fixing on his chest. If he said no, then she would remove herself from his embrace and get into the taxi still waiting patiently at the curbside. They would go on, somehow, with this empty, pointless relationship until she could find a way to escape or until she came of age.

"And that's your condition, Bella? Non-negotiable?" Edward asked, his calm enquiry belying the internal war he was experiencing—wherein he was both panicked and elated at the thought of taking Bella to his bed.

She merely nodded her head against his chest, still incapable of looking at him, lest he witness her break down and fall apart in front of him upon his inevitable rejection.

His silence prompted her to squeeze her eyes tight shut in the forlorn hope that this would stem the tide of the tears which now threatened to engulf her. Just for a moment, she wished that he and Rose had arrived too late to stop her marrying, that she and James were right at this moment cocooned in their hotel room, sated, post-coital… free. But the idea of sleeping with James, of relinquishing her sexual innocence to him, had suddenly become abhorrent to her, and she knew that, regardless of tonight's outcome, she could not regret that.

"Look at me, Bella." Edward's voice called her back to the here and now and the potential devastation of her current situation.

She shook her head, only to feel Edward's fingers slide under her chin and tip her head back, so that, in the event she could bring herself to open her eyes, she would be staring straight into his.

"Bella, please, you have to look at me; I have to know."

Slowly she opened her eyes, which were alight with moisture, tears beading on her eyelashes like sparking crystals. She blinked, releasing matching droplets from each eye which made twin tracks down her face.

"Know what?" she breathed.

Edward swept his thumbs gently across her cheekbones, gathering up the moisture and halting its progress.

"I need to know that you're sure that's what you want."

Bella's breath hitched in the back of her throat as she dared allow herself to hope.

"And if it is? If I tell you… if I convince you that it is what I want, will you... uh…"

"Will I make love to you?" Edward sighed, glancing over her shoulder for a moment, his inward struggle causing him to veer wildly back and forth between knowing this was wrong and… just _wanting_ her so badly it was like a physical ache deep in his bones.

"I'll try, Bella. I…" He released her, his hands flying up to bury themselves in his hair. "Jesus, I don't even know if I can… get past who we are to one another… or, at least, what we've been."

He dropped his arms to his sides before holding out his right hand to take hold of the index finger of her left hand. Gradually he gathered all her fingers until he had her small hand wrapped inside his much larger one.

Bella looked down at their linked hands and then back up to his face.

"Edward—"

"Hey! Romeo and fucking Juliette! Get your asses in here right now, because I can't get this fucker to wait any longer! Are you doing this, or what?"

Edward and Bella swivelled their heads to look at Rose, who was standing in the entrance to the chapel, her hands braced against either side of the doorway.

"Succinct and to the point, as always, eh, Rose?" Edward said, wrinkling his brow.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going ahead with this crackpot scheme or can I stand the guy down?"

Bella held up one finger towards Rose in a "hold on" gesture, and then turned to Edward.

"Hang on one second, Rose. Edward, I need you to ask me… please."

"Ask you? Ask you what," he queried, confused.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Ask me to… you know…" she dropped her voice, whispering, "…marry you." She glanced up at him quickly from beneath her eyelashes.

Still bemused, it was Edward's turn to roll his eyes. "I thought I already di—"

"Pleeaasse, Edward," she begged, aware that she sounded whiny in the extreme.

Edward huffed out a big breath and shook his head. Behind him, he could hear Rose cursing under her breath and shouted at her to go back in and tell the preacher they were on their way. He waited until he was sure she had gone back inside, then took another breath. With her hand still clasped in his, he shook his head, an amused look on his face.

"Isabella Marie Swan, will you do me the honour of consenting to be my wife?" he intoned, arching an eyebrow at her.

Bella squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. "Yes," she whispered. It wasn't the proposal she had dreamed of, but it _was_ a proposal.

Edward's smirk turned into a relieved smile. "Thank fuck for that!"

He turned and started walking into the chapel.

"Wait!"

He stopped and looked around at her, frowning. "What now?" he demanded, exasperated.

"What about… well, what about Tanya?" Bella asked uncertainly.

"Jesus, Bella… what about her?"

"Well, what's she going to say?"

Edward sighed and walked back to where she stood, picking up her hand.

"It's been all over between me and Tanya since London, B. And even if she didn't realise it then, I made it quite clear to her when I saw her over a week ago—the night before you did your last disappearing act. Whatever I do… _we do_, is none of her concern. Okay?"

Bella regarded him for a moment, and then nodded. "And Carmen?"

Edward barked out a laugh. "Just an old friend, Bella—I haven't seen her for months, and probably won't see her again for even longer. She's getting married next month. Which I could have told you if you'd just given me a chance, instead of running off, putting your life in danger and probably shortening _my_ life by about five years! So, is that it? Are you done with the third degree, or do you want a status report on every woman I've ever known?"

"I suppose. Besides, I don't imagine we have that kind of time!"

He pursed his lips and quirked an eyebrow at her, before pulling her once again towards the building. "Good. Now, come on, I'm not keen on long engagements,"

**~o0o~**

"… and forsaking all others, be faithful to him so long as you both shall live?" intoned Elvis in his white rhinestone cat-suit.

"I will."

As Bella uttered the two most important words of her life in a voice barely above a whisper, a thrill of anticipation passed through her, leaving her both excited and nauseous all at the same time.

She looked up at Edward beside her, but he was staring straight ahead, and for the first time in her life, Bella thought she finally understood the concept of the "thousand yard stare," an expression she'd heard used about men with battle fatigue.

It was at this moment that the full surrealism of her situation started to come home to her, a feeling which was only heightened when Elvis asked who had the rings.

"Rings?" she asked, looking from Elvis to Edward.

Jolted out of his reverie by Bella's startled enquiry, Edward looked down at her and then to Rose, who was holding up two simple gold rings, which he would discover later she had bought from the chapel shop just minutes before the service.

"Here you go, Reverend," she said, placing them both on the opened book he held out to her, from which he had been reading the wedding service.

Turning back to Edward, he continued with the exchange of rings, which Edward and Bella went through by rote, the words barely impacting on them.

"… husband an' wife. You may kiss the bride, sir."

Bella and Edward both seemed to have broken out of their trance-like state at the same time, as they glanced at Elvis and back at one another.

Bella's eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted as she drew in shallow breath after shallow breath.

Edward slid his right hand through his hair and on down to rub the back of his neck. His eyes dropped from Bella's down to her lips and back again.

_Just fucking kiss her, you idiot. _

It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her—he did. He really, _really_ wanted to kiss her. And after all, if he couldn't even kiss her, there was little chance he could do… well, _other things _to her. So yes, he wanted to kiss her.

He was just a little afraid to kiss her.

Scratch that. He was terrified.

Terrified that if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. That he would take her right here, right now, in front of Elvis and Rose.

He didn't really care about Rose… well, he did, but she would just walk away and leave them to it.

But fucking in front of The King—even a phoney surrogate—seemed somewhat… sacrilegious.

Plus, it wasn't what he had in mind for Bella's first time.

And now Bella was stepping back, her eyes dropping to her feet, mumbling, "It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. No indeed. That shit would not fly.

And all he could think was: _My girl deserves better. My _wife_ deserves better._

_My wife._

And it was that thought which had him reaching out for her, his hand sliding around her slender waist, pulling her to him, while his other hand cupped her cheek, tipping her head back.

She looked up at him, her eyes like huge pools of molten chocolate, as he bent and brushed his lips softly, so very softly, over hers.

As her eyelids fluttered closed, Bella's heart felt like it had stopped inside her chest. All too quickly, he pulled away and it started again with a thump which threatened to send it bursting out of her. With a huge effort, she forced her eyes open again and was a little surprised to find Edward's face just inches from her own, his eyes dark, like a storm-tossed ocean, and looking down on her with such intensity. Impulsively, she slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing her fingers into the thick, tapered hair at the back of his neck.

_So soft._

And then she was tugging him down as she reached up on tiptoes, putting her mouth on his and kissing him. Hard.

A low, purring groan escaped him as her lips parted beneath his and he finally gave himself up to the pleasure… the exquisite carnality of pushing his tongue into her mouth, tasting her—_oh, fuck me, the taste of her_—exploring her, _possessing her._

Edward's other hand came up to cup the back of her head as he intensified the kiss, whilst Bella's hands dropped down, snaking inside his open jacket and sliding up his back, causing a shiver of pleasure to crackle across his skin and straight to his already stiffening cock.

A discreet clearing of the throat from Elvis served to remind the bride and groom that not only did they have an audience, but that oxygen was a major and important requirement for the sustaining of life. Reluctantly, they unlocked their lips, without relinquishing their grip on one another.

With difficulty, Edward dragged his eyes away from Bella and looked around him, as though surprised to find they were not alone.

"Pardon me, Mistah Cullen, but I just need to get you two lovebirds to sign the register so I can issue the marriage licence and y'all can pick this right up where ya left off," Elvis said, smiling as he indicated a small table to one side.

Bella blushed to her roots and attempted to hide her face in Edward's chest, which made him smile down at her. He then pulled away, causing her to huff with annoyance, but she stopped when he took her hand and led her over to the register.

"Come on, _Mrs Cullen_, let's just sign and get out of here," Edward said, hoping that he had successfully managed to disguise both his terror and his jubilation over what had just transpired. It had all happened so quickly that it was almost impossible for either of them to get their heads around what they had done, but they both held it together and signed the paperwork. Rose then stepped forward to witness it, whereupon they were handed a marriage certificate, which Rose promptly snatched away before Edward could take it.

"I'll keep that—we don't want it to get lost, do we?" she said, arching one perfect eyebrow at them. She turned on her heel and headed out the door, followed closely by Edward, who led a still shell-shocked Bella towards the waiting cab and thence to their hotel… and his bed.

**~o0o~**

Bella stared at the door of Edward's suite as it shut quietly behind Rose, leaving her alone with him… with her _husband_… who was going to take her to _bed!_

Thirty minutes earlier, following a silent cab ride, they had arrived back at the hotel, whereupon Rose had immediately dragged Bella into the second bedroom of the suite, shutting and locking the door behind them.

"Rose—what the hell?" Bella exclaimed.

"Don't you 'what the hell' me, young lady, not after the last two days we've had!" Rose snapped, folding her arms across her chest and looking askance at Bella. "And that's not even including what just happened half an hour ago between you and Edward."

Rose threw her arms up in the air, glaring at Bella, who had just sat down heavily on the end of the bed and covered her face with her hands. The events of the day, together with the emotions of the last hour, her exhaustion and the remnants of the alcohol still in her system, combined to reduce her to a weeping mess.

Hard-nosed and angry as she was, Rose had developed a soft-spot for Bella and, in the face of her evident and deep distress, she relented and came over to sit down beside her, putting a comforting arm around Bella's shoulders.

She let her cry for a few minutes, but then there was a knock at the door, and Edward called out from the other side.

"Bella? Rose? Is everything okay in there?"

"We're fine, Edward, just give us a few minutes. I need to talk to Bella."

Rose sensed that Edward was loitering at first, but then they heard him move away from the door, prompting her to get up and go to the bathroom, where she found a box of tissues which she brought back and handed to Bella.

"Listen to me now, B, because Edward's not going to kick his heels out there for long."

She waited until Bella had wiped her eyes and blown her nose, making sure she had her attention.

"I know this is Edward's cockamamie idea, and that you think it's what you wan—"

Bella put her hand on Rose's arm. "It was my idea, Rose… mine."

Calm now, Bella locked eyes with Rose. "It's very much what I want, and I've made him promise that he… we will… consummate the marriage."

She looked away from Rose, expecting a tirade.

When there was only silence, she looked back at her friend, who had what could only be described as a rueful yet admiring smirk on her face.

"Well, I fucking never! Edward Cullen, outwitted and tamed by a teenage girl… and a Brit to boot!" She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh, Rose, that's not what this was all about!" Bella was aghast that Rose believed she had deliberately manipulated Edward.

Rose stopped laughing and sighed, taking Bella's hand in both of her own.

"I know, B, I know, but regardless of the means, you got what you wanted in the end. I just hope this isn't a case of being careful what you wish for." She patted Bella's hand. "But enough of that, we need to talk practicalities. Do you have condoms?"

Bella instantly felt hot as her blush swept rapidly up from her neck to her hairline.

"Lord, Rose, you don't pull any punches, do you?"

"No time for English subtlety, honey. If you're going to sleep with Edward, you need to be prepared. An unplanned wedding is one thing—an unplanned pregnancy is quite another." She arched her brow in censure.

Bella sighed in resignation. "Yeah, I know, you're right. And as a matter of fact, I'm on the Pill—I have been since I was fourteen and the doctor prescribed it for severe stomach cramps. I used to be bedridden for two days every month, sometimes more, so the school arranged it for me. I guess they must have approved it with Edward, although I don't expect he took much notice." This last was said with an edge of bitterness.

"Hey, come on, that's the past, and you need to look forward. Everything's changed now, Bella. I've got to be honest, and say that I doubt Edward is in love with you, but he gives a damn fine impression of a man who might well be on his way to falling for you…"

She held up her hand to forestall Bella's denials.

"Bella, the poor guy has been beside himself ever since you went missing. And it's not just about the money or the company—he was ready to rip James apart when he thought he'd touched you or inveigled you into bed.

"Well, now you're married and you appear to want a physical relationship with him, so you need to be prepared. This is more, Bella, much more than a schoolgirl crush now. I know the circumstances of your wedding weren't ideal, but it's a marriage as valid as any other and if you sleep with Edward, feeling about him the way you do, then the emotional ties are going to be strong and hard to break. So, tell me again this is what you want and that you know what you're doing, because it's going to hurt the first time and I don't want you to get your hopes up too much."

Bella smiled at Rose and squeezed her hand. "It is, and I do, Rose. It's all I've ever wanted. And I've had the sex talk, so you don't have to bother."

Rose pursed her lips, knowing that wanting something and getting it were two very different things, but she couldn't find it in her heart to prick Bella's balloon right now, and sometimes, you just have to learn the hard way. She opened her mouth to respond but was curtailed by a loud knocking on the door.

"Jesus, Rose, what the fuck are you two talking about in there?" Edward yelled.

Rose turned her head towards the door. "Okay, okay, keep your hair on, Eddie, we'll be right out," she shouted.

She turned back to Bella and smirked. "Hmm, anxious much? Shall we let the dog see the rabbit?"

"Not liking the metaphor, Rose," Bella huffed, getting up and walking over to the door. When she opened it, Edward was standing on the other side in his shirt sleeves, still wearing his black jeans, but having discarded his shoes and socks. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, revealing his muscled forearms, covered in a light dusting of auburn hair which was a slightly lighter shade than the hair on his head.

To Bella, he looked like sex incarnate.

_My husband._

Rose brushed past them, breaking Bella out of her reverie. Edward stepped back to allow her passage and as he did, Rose leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Be kind to her, Edward. You'll break her heart soon enough."

Edward looked at her sharply, but she was already walking away, Bella following in her wake. Before Rose reached the door, Bella reached out to grab her arm, causing her to stop and turn. She just threw her arms around her, squeezing her hard.

"Thank you, Rose, for everything," she whispered.

Rose hugged her back. "Don't thank me yet, honey." She extracted herself from Bella's embrace and pulled open the door, giving her one last smile and mouthing a silent 'good luck' before exiting to head towards her own room.

And then they were alone.

Bella turned and looked at Edward, still standing by the door of the second bedroom.

He shoved both hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet, rubbing a spot on the carpet with his toe.

"So… what was that all about?" he asked.

Bella couldn't help the blush that once again suffused her cheeks.

"Oh, you know, Rose was just being protective and giving me the, uh, sex talk." Bella gave an embarrassed giggle and glanced up at Edward from under her lashes. His reaction took her by surprise.

"Shit!"

He walked quickly over to the couch, sat down and started pulling his shoes on.

"What the hell, Edward?" Bella asked, starting to worry. "Look, she didn't say anything… you can't have a go at her!"

"It's not that… don't worry. I'm just… going to run downstairs." He jumped up and practically ran out the door, leaving a stunned Bella standing in the middle of the room, staring after him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks go, as ever, to my fab beta, MauiGirl60, for services above and beyond, and to the other members of Team McFluffy, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

All the way down to the lobby, Edward warred with himself over what he and Bella were about to do. On the one hand, he told himself that he was taking advantage of an underage, vulnerable and impressionable teenage girl. On the other hand, in the country of her birth, she was over the legal age of sexual consent, plus he was acting to protect both Bella and her father's legacy. And she was now his wife… his very _hot_ wife.

He clawed at his hair with both hands.

_Dear God, I'm only human, and there are limits to my self-control._

The elevator doors opened and he exited, making his way to the large shopping mall area. Ignoring the gift shop, he spotted an establishment called "Go Sexy," which he imagined would stock what he needed.

Half an hour later, he emerged, a little shell-shocked, carrying a small, discreet shopping bag containing his purchases. It was Edward's first foray into a sex shop and it had been an education in itself.

He looked across the vast, marble-floored lobby towards the elevators, but then spotted a sign for Bugsy's Bar and took a detour. He needed a drink before he went back upstairs… just one to calm his nerves.

As he took a seat at the bar, Edward gave some thought to the fact that he was nervous. He hadn't felt like this since… well, since never. He'd lost his virginity at fifteen to the nineteen- year-old sister of a friend at school, but he'd been a pretty arrogant teenager and couldn't recall being particularly anxious or worried. The nerves he was currently feeling were an altogether new experience for him, and he just needed something to steady and calm him ahead of what was to come.

It was still quite early, not even nine o'clock. The bar was relatively quiet, with only half a dozen of the tables occupied and one other person sitting at the far end of the bar—a woman in an expensive-looking black cocktail dress, all blonde hair and long, long legs.

He looked away, transferring his attention to the bartender and ordering a single malt whisky, no ice, no water.

"Mind if I join you?" a smoky, very sexy female voice asked from his right, and he turned his head to see the blonde from the end of the bar.

"Uh, well, I wasn't staying—" Edward started.

"Don't worry, I'm not hustling, just looking for a little conversation. When you're done, you can leave, no drama," she said, smiling at him.

Edward shrugged and turned back to his drink, which was nearly finished. He sighed and beckoned over the bartender, before glancing over at his new friend.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure, why not. I'll have a Manhattan, please."

The barman set their drinks down in front of them and walked away. Edward picked up his scotch and looked at his companion, holding his glass up.

"Cheers."

She smiled, clinking her glass to his and repeating his toast.

Edward sipped his drink and regarded her. Up close, she was very beautiful—tall, slim, elegant, with a mass of shiny, pale gold hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. She had large, blue eyes, cheekbones you could cut yourself on and a wide mouth with crimson-painted lips.

She was his type.

He'd always had a thing for tall blondes—in fact, he couldn't really recall a girl he'd dated or, more accurately, bedded, who didn't conform to this stereotype.

She looked like a movie star or a model. She was classy. She was clearly attracted to him. She was available.

She was another Tanya.

And that thought made him turn away from his perusal.

He put his glass down on the bar, clasping both hands around it, and stared down into the pale amber liquid.

The woman mimicked his position, but turned her head to look at him.

"I'm Rina, by the way. Thanks for the drink."

He met her gaze. "I'm Edward, and you're welcome."

He then returned to his thorough investigation of the drink in front of him.

Rina leaned sideways and nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Hey, I think there's a law in Vegas which states that men as handsome as you are not allowed to be sad or alone."

He looked round at her again. "And is that the same law that says women as beautiful as you shouldn't have to chase after men?"

She pouted, and he realised what he'd said.

"Sorry, that sounded better in my head than it did in reality."

She smiled ruefully. "That's okay. But seriously, you look like you just bet your last million on black and it came up red."

Edward sighed, took a sip of his drink, put it back on the bar and swivelled around to face her.

"I got married today, Rina. How about that?"

"Wow… uh, congratulations?" She looked unsure and just a little bit disappointed. "Who's the lucky girl?"

Edward laughed humourlessly.

"I'm… _was_, her legal guardian. She's a seventeen year old student from England, who has spent the last six months trying to fuck up her life, culminating in her running off with a complete stranger from a bar in New York last night—Jesus, was it just last night? I caught up with her in a wedding chapel a couple of hours ago, where I managed to stop her from throwing her life—and her fortune—away on some gold-digging loser, and instead of just taking her home to New York and locking the silly girl in her room, I married her. I. Fucking. Married. Her!"

Rina stared at him, opening her mouth to speak, but Edward was on a roll.

"And now she's upstairs in our suite, and she wants me to _'consummate'_ the marriage." He used air quotes, shaking his head.

"And you're down here, drinking with a woman you just met." It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact.

"Yeah, I guess I am." He picked his glass up, tipped it towards her and then swallowed down the remaining alcohol. "Another?"

"I'm okay, thanks. So, what's up with your girl—is she ugly? Stupid? Fat? Does she have bad breath or a hairy wart, or something?"

Edward laughed derisively.

"No, none of those things. She's beautiful and smart, has a great body and is sexy as hell." He looked away from her, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "She's gorgeous," he sighed, turning back to the bar.

"So you're attracted to her?"

He didn't answer immediately, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, before covering his face completely.

"God help me, yes," he muttered from behind his hands, his tone tortured.

"And she willingly agreed to this?"

He nodded.

"And you married her today?"

Another nod.

Rina regarded him for a moment, then shook her head.

"So, let me get this straight. You just married a beautiful, clever young woman who wants you and who you clearly desire. Jesus, Edward, what the hell are you doing down here?"

He dropped his hands to the bar and looked at her. He took a moment to really take her in—her hair, eyes, skin, lips, breasts, legs—all perfect, flawless. He shook his head.

"I don't know, Rina."

He went to pick up his drink, but she reached across and took it from him.

"If it's Dutch courage you wanted, I think you've had enough. Go be with your girl… your wife, Edward. This is no place to be on your wedding night," she added wistfully.

He nodded and stood up. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Rina."

He took her hand and kissed it, then leaned in to speak softly into her ear.

"In another life, maybe we could have been perfect for one another."

He felt her shiver and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Releasing her hand and pulling away, he smiled at her, picked up his shopping bag and turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Rina… and thanks."

"Bye, Edward. And good luck," she said, giving him a small smile, which didn't reach her eyes.

He just nodded and walked away. He didn't look back, so never saw the look of regret which fell like a shadow across her face.

**~o0o~**

Edward let himself quietly into the suite, quickly realising that Bella wasn't in the dimly lit living room. Toeing off his shoes, which were starting to chaff because he wasn't wearing socks, he made his way to his bedroom, only to find it equally empty.

Frowning, he put the little bag down on the bed and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stripping off, he stepped into the massive shower stall and stood amidst the powerful jets of water which bombarded his skin from all directions. He tried very hard not to think about what he was about to do, but it was impossible, and very quickly he could feel himself developing a substantial semi. Ignoring it as best he could, he finished off in the shower and grabbed a towel to dry himself. He then secured it around his hips and turned to look in the mirror above the vanity unit.

Running his hand over the day's growth of stubble, he decided that he should probably shave, as he didn't want to make her sore… at least, not on her face.

He shook his head, trying to rid it of such thoughts, and continued with his toilette—shaving, brushing his teeth and applying deodorant.

When he was finished, he returned to his room and put on a clean pair of boxer-briefs, relieved to see his erection had subsided. He then picked up the bag he'd left on his bed and made his way to Bella's room.

As he stood outside, with his hand on the doorknob, he suddenly had an awful thought—that he'd been gone so long she'd run away again. His heart racing, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

And as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he felt his heart go from 100 miles per hour to a dead stop in the blink of an eye.

Both bedrooms were mirror images of one another, with Bella's bathroom adjoining his, and each with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bright lights of downtown Las Vegas.

It was a spectacular view but, in Edward's opinion, it paled into insignificance compared to the wondrous sight before him.

Bella was asleep in the middle of the bed, lying on her stomach with her head turned in profile, her left arm resting on the pillow beneath her head, her right arm having slipped under the adjoining pillow. One leg was stretched out straight and the other was pulled up and bent at the knee. Her hair was a massive, shining halo of deep mahogany, spread out across the pillows.

And she was naked.

This he could see because the one sheet she had pulled over herself was now bunched up across her lower back, covering nothing but her delectable ass.

That lost erection? Oh yeah, it was back, and then some.

Edward stood for several minutes just drinking in the luscious view. It was only when his cock began to strain towards the bed, like there was some kind of magnetic force at work, that he found himself moving inexorably closer.

He rounded the bed, putting the bag he still held on the bedside cabinet and pulled out the large box of condoms. He had cursed in the shop downstairs, when he realised the smallest box they stocked was a 12-pack, but now he was thinking that maybe 12 wouldn't be enough. There were a couple of other items in the bag, but he left them there… for now. He merely removed one of the condoms from the pack and set it down on the cabinet.

Standing next to the bed, Edward finally gave in to temptation and reached down to lift the sheet up and away from Bella's body. As he did so, she made a cute kind of snuffling noise and rolled over onto her back.

And he groaned, his eyes feasting on her beautiful body—her breasts, full and pert and utterly delicious, with their dusky pink nipples, which immediately puckered and hardened as they became exposed to the temperature-controlled air; her slender waist and flat, smooth stomach, still adorned by her bellybutton ring; the flared curve of her hips and firm, tapered thighs, at the apex of which a neatly trimmed tuft of dark curls indicated the entrance to the gates of heaven.

He stared at her in awe as she started to fidget, her lips moving imperceptibly as she started to emit soft moans and whispered words.

And then, what little control he had managed to hold onto dissipated like smoke on a windy day as his name escaped her in a breathy gasp.

He dropped the sheet and quickly divested himself of his boxers, before climbing into the king-size bed and putting his arms around his bride. Pulling her to him, he buried his face in her hair, revelling in her scent—fresh wildflowers, honey and vanilla—and the silky softness of her skin. As he held her close, he felt her stir and with one arm still around her midriff, he propped his head up on the other hand so he could look at her.

Bella sighed again and a small smile lit her lovely face, as her eyes fluttered open. As soon as she was able to focus, her smile disappeared as her mouth opened in a perfect 'O' of surprise. Her eyes then widened so much, he thought they might pop out.

He couldn't control the smirk which spread across his face.

"Hi," he said, slipping his index finger under her chin and pushing up so that her mouth shut with a snap.

Bella just stared at him, and then several things occurred to her at once.

That Edward really was in bed with her.

That she was naked.

That _he_ was naked.

That something big and hard was poking her in the hip.

That the _something_ was Edward's… _oh my fucking God, it's his todger!_

_And it's HUGE!_

As each new revelation hit home, Bella's ability to look ever more surprised both amazed and amused Edward, until her eyes suddenly dropped down and he realised exactly what the last realisation was all about.

He cupped her face, bringing her eyes back to his.

His gaze flickered across every plane and curve of her face, settling at last on her eyes and then on her mouth, as if committing all her features to memory.

He rubbed his thumb lightly across her cheek., Then, pulling his hand away, he turned it and slid the backs of his fingers down along her jaw to her chin, where he stopped and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip.

Bella put her own hand up and curled her fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand away from her mouth.

Finally, she was able to find words, albeit she could barely speak above a whisper.

"Is this real? Are you really here?"

In answer, he smiled then dipped his head to kiss her softly on the mouth.

But as he went to pull away, Bella threw her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers into his hair and bringing him back to her.

As his lips reconnected with hers, he felt her open up to him and he groaned, low in his chest, as he felt her tongue flicker across his bottom lip.

He was lost then.

He had intended to give her one last chance to back out—although if he'd asked and she'd said no, he probably would have combusted from a severe case of blue balls.

But he didn't ask, because he couldn't. Not because her mouth on his prevented him, but because he knew he could no more stop now than he could find a solution to the Middle East problem or cure world poverty.

The hand which had been loosely draped across her abdomen now slid around her, splayed across her back and pulled her closer.

When lack of air became an issue, he relinquished her lips and started placing hot, wet kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

At the same time, Bella's fingernails raked across his scalp and she gasped his name, sliding her foot up his calf and hooking his leg over hers so that he was lying across her.

"Oh, fuck," he breathed against her collarbone as he felt his cock brush her pubis, becoming impossibly hard.

"Edward, please," Bella pleaded, prompting him to continue his trek across the wonderland that was her body, licking and sucking on the hollow at the base of her throat, before laying a wet trail down between her breasts. Then, before he started feasting, he pushed himself up on his forearms, so he could look at her.

In the half-light thrown by the glittering city below them, her skin glowed like alabaster, her twin mounds peaked with dark pink areolas, from which protruded two stiff, swollen nubs. Bella's fast, shallow breaths made them move and wobble slightly and he could no longer resist.

He swooped down, taking one glorious nipple between his lips and suckling hard, swirling his tongue around it and then drawing back so he could flick his tongue rapidly over the taut, ultra-sensitive flesh, before diving back down to suck as much of her breast into his mouth as would fit.

Bella's gasps and moans egged him on as he transferred his attention to the other delicious treat, whilst his hand continued to knead and rub and tweak at the first breast, now glistening with his saliva.

Beneath him, Bella's body undulated against his hips, her legs spreading to accommodate him between them, as they both desperately sought friction in a vain attempt to quell the heat and need and _ache_ at the very core of their bodies.

Reluctantly leaving her incredible tits behind, Edward set off from base camp on his way to the summit. With tongue and lips and fingers he blazed a trail of wet and heat across her skin, tasting, licking, sucking until Bella thought she would die of need. Her hands slid across the smooth skin of his back, feeling his muscles ripple and tense as she dug her nails in, finally sliding into his hair as he reached her stomach. She gasped as he swirled his tongue inside her bellybutton, curling it around her piercing and tugging on it gently with his lips, but before she could recover, he was on his way down, and down, and down.

As he reached the apex of her thighs, he pushed them wider, kissing and licking the silky soft and fragile skin, feeling the wild beat of her heart in the pulse of her femoral artery, like a tiny captured bird held in cupped hands.

He wanted to carry on worshipping her right down to her toes, but the scent of her arousal—heady, fragrant, intoxicating—drew him like a hummingbird to nectar.

Bella's hips jerked reflexively against him as he pushed her feet back, raising her knees. He grinned, glancing up to find her staring down at him wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He transferred his gaze to her beautiful pussy, which glistened with her juices, and he couldn't wait to taste her.

Palming her, he made an initial pass with his thumb, drawing it up from bottom to top and sliding it lightly across the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex, earning him a gasp of pleasure.

"Fuck, Bella, you are so wet," he groaned, knowing now that wild horses wouldn't be able to keep him out of there.

He dipped his face down to her welcoming muff and swirled his tongue over her clit, causing Bella to buck her hips again.

"Edwaaarrrdd! Oh, fuck!"

"Careful, B. You don't wanna knock me out before we get to the good stuff."

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't stop!"

"Shhh, baby, relax. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Edward returned his attention to Bella's lower lips, but took the precaution of grabbing her hips, pinning her to the bed.

And to the soundtrack of Bella's gasps, sighs, shrieks and filthy vocabulary, he set about her, rubbing, licking and sucking at her clit, getting her so wet that when he finally slid a finger into her she was more than ready, and he quickly added a second one.

_Fuck, she's tight… but so goddamn wet._

Edward knew his cock was a little bigger than average, and that when he finally entered her it would, in all probability hurt, so he was a little concerned about just how tight she was—he was going to need to make her cum at least once before he even attempted to get inside her. But quicker than he expected, he could feel her vaginal muscles tense and spasm around his fingers as he turned them and began stroking at the front wall of her vagina, high and deep.

"Ahhhhhh… oh, God, Edward, _Edward, EDWAAARRRRDDD_," she screamed, her hips jerking as her fingers clawed at the pillows above her head. Her back arched high as her orgasm peaked and she began to come down, Edward's fingers still inside her as he gently stroked her until she dropped heavily back to the bed.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," she gasped softly, as her breathing started to slow.

She looked down as Edward withdrew his fingers, sitting back on his heels and putting his glistening digits in his mouth, his eyes hooded as he sucked her juices off himself, unable to suppress a groan of pleasure.

He came back to the moment when he felt Bella sit up and grab his wrist. He looked into her eyes as she pulled his hand towards her. Without taking her eyes from his, she wrapped her lips round his index and second fingers and sucked on them, swirling her tongue around them and moaning softly.

"Holy fuck, Bella!" Edward thought he might blow his load right there and then.

_That is so fucking hot._

Bella released his fingers with a pop and grinned at him.

Before she knew what was happening, she was flat on her back again, Edward's lips crushing hers as he kissed her hard. Teeth clashed and tongues danced as he breathed through his nose, dragging precious air into his lungs so that he wouldn't need to stop… he never wanted to stop kissing this woman.

Bella tugged on the hair at the back of his neck and wrapped her long legs around him, wanting to get closer, needing to feel his skin against hers _everywhere_. She could feel him, hard and long and hot against her belly and she wanted it, wanted him, inside her. There was no fear, no trepidation, no hesitancy—all she'd ever wanted, since the very first time she had set eyes on Edward, was to be close to him, to belong to him. And as she'd grown from child, to adolescent, into womanhood, this—right here, right now—was exactly where she'd dreamed of being.

As Edward finally gave in to the demands of his lungs, breaking the kiss to take a much needed gulp of air, Bella opened her eyes to find his just centimetres away, their faces so close that his lips were still brushing hers as he breathed in and out.

"Edward, please," she whispered against his mouth, "I need you."

She arched her hips again, grinding into him and feeling his rigid member twitch against her.

Edward rested his forehead against hers, his breaths rapid and shallow as his heart thundered in his chest. So many emotions pulsed through him that he could barely think straight—shock, amazement, ecstasy, hunger, desire, guilt, regret, longing, triumph… _lust_.

Forcing a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers, he finally managed to verbalise a coherent thought.

"Are you sure, Bella… I'll stop now if you want me to, but I'm pretty close to the point of no return."

_Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes._

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I'm your wife, I claim my conjugal rights." She smiled at him, praying that he would finally give in and just _do it, already._

At her words, Edward squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. _She's my wife… fucking Christ! We're married!_

He began to wonder if his poor, ill-used dick would survive this, or whether it would become so hard, so utterly… tumescent, that it would just explode, like one of those joke cigars.

When he spoke again, his voice was gravelly with desire. "Okay, Mrs Cullen, you asked for it. Don't say I never give you anything."

He pushed himself up on his left elbow whilst reaching across for the condom he had left out earlier. Grabbing hold of it he ripped it open with both hands, tossing the foil to one side and then pushed up on his knees to roll it on. As he did so, he became aware of Bella watching him, her eyes glued to his cock, with a look of… what?... wonder?... awe?... _fear?_ He couldn't decide.

But then, it all became irrelevant as she slowly, almost languorously, licked her lips.

He groaned and Bella's gaze transferred to his face, her teeth pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.

"Fucking hell…"

She was like pure sin, laid out before him, waiting to be taken, like the temptations of Christ… and he sure didn't have that man's willpower—in fact, he doubted that all the angels and saints would have been able to fight such enticement.

She was wanton… sensual… mouth-watering… utterly irresistible.

He dropped forward, hovering over her, a hand on either side of her head, careful not to trap her hair, which was fanned out over the pillow.

He dipped his head, capturing her bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. He released it and did the same to her top lip, revelling in the way she immediately opened up to him.

Again, she sought to bring him closer, sliding her hands round to the back of his neck and pulling, bringing him to her, against her, skin-to-skin, mouth-to-mouth, sex-to-sex, fitting together like soft, pliant, living Lego.

Her legs came up around his hips again and, as he trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, to her chest, he took himself in hand, grunting as he stroked himself quickly—once, twice—before aligning his engorged cock with her drenched pudenda.

"This will probably hurt, B, but I'll be as gentle as I can," he told her, sotto voce.

"Oh, God, Edward, please, please… just do it… do it now—OWW!"

As she spoke, she arched into him, just as he started to push forward, and their combined impetus served to slam Edward's not inconsiderable organ deep inside her.

He immediately stopped moving, even though the pleasure of being inside her was such that his eyes had threatened to roll back in his head, and the urge to thrust was almost overwhelming.

"Jesus fuck, Bella," he gasped. "Are you okay, did I hurt you?"

He started to pull out, knowing that if he didn't, he would start fucking her like an animal any second. But Bella held on to him tightly, not wanting him gone. It didn't really hurt… well, not that much—just kind of… pinched a little, a bit like getting a smear test.

"NO! Ohmygod, Edward, please… don't move, I'm fine… you caught me unawares, that's all. Just… hold still a second… you're… hell's teeth, it's so big!"

"Is the right answer!" He grinned at her, unable to help himself. He didn't think he'd ever before experienced such a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, just being inside a woman.

But Bella's sudden giggle almost put paid to that as he felt himself being expelled by the abdominal flexing her laughter caused.

Simultaneously, their eyes locked and widened and, as one, they thrust against each other, his cock sliding back in, even deeper than before.

"Oh, God, that's… _amazing._" Bella tightened her legs around Edward. She felt so… _full._

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned, giving in to the irresistible compulsion to move inside her. The pleasure was exquisite and unbearable all at the same time.

She was so unbelievably tight, yet so wet that he slid effortlessly in and out of her, feeling her along every inch of him. He had detected no discernible barrier when he entered her, other than the narrowness of her channel, and the thought briefly flitted across his mind that she had lied about being a virgin, but he couldn't bring himself to care, when the end result was the pure, sensual eroticism… the utter bliss of being inside this divine creature.

He moved slowly at first, desperate to both give her pleasure and to prolong his own, but the cadence and tone of her vocal response, like a carnal symphony, only served to drive him on to greater heights.

Bella's hands slid down his back, landing on his buttocks and gripping hard, pulling him deeper. Her voice, already becoming hoarse from the cries and gasps she was unable to control, was husky and cracked as she begged him to move harder_… faster_.

Edward didn't hesitate to comply, but he knew he would never hold off his orgasm long enough to make her cum if he didn't introduce additional stimulation.

He raised himself up on his arms, locking his elbows, the grip of her legs around him pulling her hips up with him. He then put his weight on his left arm, whilst he slid his right hand round to the small of her back. She was so small-boned and light, it was easy to support her as he pushed himself up on his knees, whilst keeping himself buried inside her. At first she was limp, her arms trailing back on the bed; but then, as he sat back on his haunches, with one hand at the base of her spine and the other sliding up to cup the back of her head, he was able to propel her towards him, and suddenly she was straddling his knees, her fingers gripping his shoulders as he slid both his hands to her hips and started moving her up and down on his throbbing shaft.

Bella was lost in sensation. Feeling him, so big, so rigid, inside her, filling her in such a foreign but delicious way, so that there was nothing else, absolutely nothing in the world, except his cock. And then he took his right hand off her hip and slid it round between them, pressing his thumb to her clit and pushing up into her as she rode him.

Her hooded eyelids suddenly shot open, her eyes falling on his beautiful face. His lips were parted and his gaze was intense. She thought she might drown in those eyes.

At that moment, she felt a tingling begin in her toes and rush up her legs and all across her skin like an out-of-control forest fire.

"Edward! Ohhhh!"

"Come on, Bella… fuck… you feel so good… oh God, it feels incredible!" Edward renewed his efforts, rubbing furiously just above where they were joined. He didn't dare look down, because the sight of his cock, slick with their combined juices, moving in and out of her, would surely tip him over the edge.

"Edward… oh my God… yes, yes, yes, oh God, _yessss_!"

Bella folded her arms round his neck, pressing herself against him as the soft, downy hairs on his chest tickled her overstimulated nipples.

"Oh-oh-oh, _FUCK! EDWARRRRD!" _

She jerked and trembled in his arms as her orgasm overtook her, rendering her boneless and hardly able to move, in contrast to Edward's now wildly erratic thrusting. He pulled his hand from between them so that he could return it to her hip, holding her steady and ramming himself into her hard, as his ball sac contracted and cum shot up into the condom in a mind-blowing orgasm so powerful that he thought he might have a heart attack. So all-consuming was the effect, that his shout of pleasure died in his throat as he fought for air.

As he continued to pulse inside her, he dropped his face to her shoulder, mindlessly biting down and revelling in the sweet taste of her smooth, damp skin.

Bella cried out, although less from the pain than the total overstimulation of her system, causing aftershocks of pleasure to ripple through her, as her vaginal walls contracted again around Edward's softening cock.

"Jesus fuck, Bella, wha…? Ungghh!"

Unable to articulate further, he pulled her close, feeling her heart thrumming wildly in her chest… although it might have been his, he could no longer tell. Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he pulled her to him, planting a wet, breathless kiss on her mouth, before sliding his lips up her jaw to her ear.

"You have… bewitched me… Mrs Cullen," he whispered between gulps of air as he desperately fought to bring his breathing under control.

He brought his eyes back to hers, as she rested her elbows on his shoulders and dragged her fingers through his hair.

"If that's true, I hope it never wears off," she replied quietly, leaning her forehead against his, as they both started to regain their equilibrium.

Edward closed his eyes. He had never experienced this level of intensity, of closeness, of unbridled pleasure with any woman… _ever. _He felt overwhelmed and utterly confused. But more than that, for the first time in his life, he felt… sated… comfortable… yes, odd though the thought was, this felt comfortable… it felt… _right._

"We should get some sleep, Bella," he said, reluctantly starting to lift her in order to disengage. She resisted at first, but was clearly exhausted and quickly gave in, allowing him to lay her gently back on the bed.

He got off the bed and Bella immediately sat back up with a look of alarm on her face.

"Where—? Don't go, please, not yet!" she cried.

He turned back, giving her a soft smile.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom; I'll be right back."

Bella flopped back against the pillows. "Okay," she whispered.

In the bathroom, Edward removed the condom and tied a knot in it. As he went to throw it in the bin, he noticed a tiny smear of blood on it and his post-coital glow turned into something more fundamental. She hadn't lied, he was her first, and with that knowledge came a feeling of such satisfaction and relief that he was barely able to contain it.

He lifted the toilet seat and relieved himself, looking down at his dick, which was a little red—which didn't really surprise him, considering the amount of work it had just done in the tight confines of Bella's awesome pussy. Just the thought of it made him twitch and he couldn't help being somewhat amazed that, at the ripe old age of 31, he was so quickly able to muster up a semi.

Amazed and just a little smug.

For a long moment, he leaned his hand against the wall in front of him until he became aware that he was just staring at his dick, with a wide grin on his face, seemingly mesmerised.

Flushing the toilet and turning away, he washed his hands and regarded himself in the mirror. There were clear signs of exhaustion, evident in the dark shadows beneath his eyes, but despite that, he didn't look so bad for his age. He reckoned he could probably still get away with claiming he was 25 on a good day, which wasn't so much older than Bella.

He stared at himself a moment longer. _Could this work?_

He shook his head. He was way too tired, and way too keen to get back into bed with _his wife_ to contemplate thinking about that now. Plenty of time to think about it tomorrow.

Returning to the bedroom, he had to just stand and look for a moment. Bella was asleep, much as she'd been when he'd first come to bed, but this time with nothing covering her glorious nakedness.

He felt himself stiffening, and decided it might be a good idea to put his boxer-briefs back on. Not much of a barrier, but better than nothing. She would doubtless be too sore for a second round so quickly. He found his underwear and put them on, gathering up the sheet, which had fallen to the floor, and pulled it up over Bella, before sliding in behind her. Gently, so gently, he pulled her to him so her back was pressed to his chest and he could wrap his arm around her. He thought she was waking up when he heard her mumble something. He kind of hoped she would wake up, because, despite the fact that he was supposedly past his sexual peak—and he really didn't think she would be up for round two just yet—it could not be denied that he was sporting a very respectable hard-on.

"Bella, are you awake?" he asked softly.

"D_warrr…"_ came the slurred response. "_luffooosmush…"_

It was nonsense, and a moment later, a soft, snuffling snore escaped her and he knew she was asleep.

_Dreaming of me? _he wondered, smiling to himself.

But his own exhaustion was quickly catching up with him, and the slow, rhythmic beat of Bella's slumbering heart began to lull him into sleep, and without realising it, he was no longer awake.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Massive thanks to my beta, MauiGirl60, for her wondrous editing skills.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

**Sunday 10 April 2011**

Morning broke at an ungodly hour across the uncurtained room like an explosion in a Sunny Delight factory, the desert sun spreading inexorably across the room and the bed, bathing everything in a blinding yellow glow.

Bella was the first to wake up, her eyes blinking open like a hibernating bear cub. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, the slight wriggling motion she made eliciting a response which had her head jerking off the bed, her breath hitching in her throat.

It was then she became aware of the very warm body behind her, pressed against what felt like every atom of her skin, a heavy arm resting on her hip, a large hand splayed across her stomach, and a very hard cock lodged firmly between the cheeks of her bottom.

"If you do that again, I will not be held accountable for my actions," a muffled voice murmured from where Edward's face was buried in her hair at the nape of her neck, all husky, sinful sexiness.

"What, you mean this?" Bella replied, disingenuously, at the same time pushing back against him and wiggling her bottom again.

The giggle which started to bubble up in her throat turned to a gasp as she suddenly found herself on her back with Edward hovering over her, his hair a truly riotous cacophony of red and brown and copper, a light stubble darkening his jaw, and his eyes the colour of dark green glass.

She had never seen anything more beautiful or sexier in her life.

"You're a tease, Isabella. You better be prepared to follow through," he growled.

Bella tried to pull air into her lungs as her heart beat a rapid tattoo inside her chest. Swallowing hard, she locked eyes with her husband.

"I'm good to go, Edward, but I don't want to wear you out… you know, at your age and all," she smirked.

He cocked an incredulous eyebrow at her.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have said that."

He sat back on his heels, watching as Bella's eyes were immediately drawn to his straining erection.

"See something you like, B?"

Her eyes darted back to his face. "Maybe."

He chuckled darkly, then grabbed both her wrists and pulled her arms up above her head, pinning them to the pillow.

"Keep them there," he ordered, sitting back up again and dragging his hands down her shoulders and cupping her breasts. He rubbed at her nipples, which quickly hardened against the pads of his thumbs. Ignoring her sigh of disappointment, he continued to trail his fingers lightly down her body, taking the time to really look at her—a sight he'd been denied the night before, despite the Vegas lights having taken the edge off the darkness of the room.

Bella closed her eyes, squirming as his hands left trails of fire across her skin, rendering her weak with need.

But then his hands stilled. "What the fuck?!"

Bella's eyes flew open at Edward's exclamation, understanding dawning quickly when she realised where his eyes were focussed.

"Oh."

He looked up at her, his expression impossible to read.

"What is that?" he asked, his voice without inflection.

"It's... it's, um… just a squiggle," she stammered. "I told you I had a tat."

Edward looked back down at the black ink etched into Bella's skin, positioned low on her pelvic bone.

"You said you 'might have one.' I chose to believe you didn't. Hmm, just a squiggle?" He dipped his head, peering closer at the mark, which stood out starkly against the porcelain paleness of her smooth flesh.

"It looks like… an—"

Bella put a stop to his investigation by the simple expedient of reaching up and grabbing hold of his dick, rubbing her thumb over the head where a bead of moisture had gathered.

"Shiiitt!" All thoughts of Bella's tattoo vaporised in that moment and Edward gave himself over to the pleasure of having Bella's hand on him. She moved it slowly down his rigid shaft, then back up again, sliding her palm over the head to gather up his pre-cum and using it as a lubricant to ease the motion of her hand up and down.

Edward bit his lip, fighting for control, before finally deciding to capture and still her hand.

Her face fell. "Oh, don't you like it? Did I do it wrong?" she asked plaintively, biting her lip.

He looked down at her beautiful face, which currently wore an expression of disappointment and concern.

"No, Bella, you didn't do anything wrong, and yes, I liked it… I liked it way too much."

Bella frowned in confusion, and started to speak, but he cut off her words by kissing her softly.

Pulling back, he smiled down at her.

"I don't want to cum in your hand…" He kissed her again, sliding across to her jaw and up to her ear, nibbling on her lobe before swirling his tongue round the shell.

"I want to cum inside you, Bella," he whispered, smiling when he felt a shiver ripple through her.

She wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled him down.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she asked, opening her legs and sliding her knees up to allow him full access.

He reached over to the bedside table, knocking the box of condoms on its side so that the contents spilled out, and grabbed a foil packet. Bella released her hold around his neck and took the condom from him, causing him to frown in confusion.

"May I?" she asked breathily.

Edward swallowed hard and just nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and rolled on to his back beside her.

Pushing herself up on her knees at his side, she tore the packet open and took out the prophylactic. Casting her mind back to sex ed. classes at school, she placed the condom over Edward's engorged cock and started rolling it down, pinching the little reservoir at the end. As she did so, she bit lightly on her lower lip in concentration, and this, combined with what she was doing to him, almost rendered the condom redundant.

As the rubber sheath reached the base of his shaft, Bella smiled in triumph and her eyes flickered up to Edward's, which smouldered with a hitherto unseen intensity, robbing her of words or, indeed, air.

With a low rumble in his chest which sounded suspiciously growly, Edward reached for Bella, wrapping his hands around her tiny waist and manhandling her over him. She found herself straddling his hips, his freshly-protected member now so rigid it stood away from his body, twitching just inches from her warm centre. It reminded her of one of those old movies showing a weaving, mesmerised cobra being enticed from a basket by a wily old Indian fakir playing a recorder.

In truth, it was Bella who was now mesmerised and it was only when Edward's hands came up and cupped her breasts, that the spell was broken. He rubbed and played with them until she leaned over him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders, as she captured his mouth with hers.

Edward's response was swift and enthusiastic, his hands now moving down to grasp her hips, even as he continued to devour her mouth. He lifted her up and forward so that his cock, like a heat-seeking missile, slid against her sweet, wet lips, which were suffused with the blood which rushed to her sex, and glistened with her rapidly-escalating arousal.

Taking one hand off her hip, Edward ran two fingers against her, finding her more than ready for him.

He groaned, a lascivious, needy sound, and took hold of himself. "Lift up again, B," he rasped, guiding himself into the molten heat of her beautiful, welcoming cunt as it descended back down on him, taking every inch of his long, thick cock.

"Jesus wept, B, that is so motherfucking good," he sighed, as Bella started to slowly ride him, her own gasps and moans echoing his.

"Oh-oh, Edward… oh God… I love… feeling… you… inside me," she panted on each upstroke.

Edward watched her—it was a fantastic sight. Her breasts wobbled deliciously and her hair danced around her face and shoulders as she moved above him. He had to grit his teeth and think about Emmett in speedos in order to prolong the pleasure—he wanted her to both slow down and speed up and was able to demand neither.

"Ohhhhhh….my…._GODDDDD… _ahhhh… Edward… yesssss… fuuucckk!"

Bella cried out as her orgasm rocketed through her, clenching her muscles around him as he thrust hard up into her.

"Fuck, that's good, that's so good, oh God, yes… that's… fucking fantastic, B… _fuck YES!" _

Edward thrust hard once… twice… three more times, and shuddered, seemingly endless streams of cum exploding out of him, as an exhausted Bella collapsed across his chest and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She continued to undulate gently against him and he put his arms around her, stroking the silken skin of her back as they both waited for their heart rates to calm and return to normal.

Bella pushed her hands into his hair, alternately massaging and scratching his scalp, as she revelled in the feel of his heart pounding right next to hers. She could have stayed there forever, wrapped in his arms, lying atop her husband and lover in that big bed, the early morning Las Vegas sun drenching them in golden light. And, remarkably to her, Edward seemed just as happy to keep her company.

Sadly, of course, it was not to be, the sound of the doorbell rudely pricking their bubble of post-coital contentment.

_Bing-bong, bing-bong, bing-bong, bing-bong…_

Bella lifted her head from Edward's neck and looked at him.

"Rose!" they both said together, making them laugh, which in turn effectively expelled Edward from Bella's body.

Sighing heavily, she rolled off him, her cheeks turning pink as his eyes followed her. She knew it was irrational to suddenly become shy after what they had just done, but the way he looked at her made her feel like he could see into her very soul, like he could actually read her mind. He smirked as she grabbed the sheet and pulled it around her, sliding off the bed and heading towards the bathroom, leaving him stark, bollock-naked on the bed—which, annoyingly, didn't appear to faze him one bit.

"I'm going to take a shower," she huffed, "you can deal with Rose."

He snorted, rubbing both hands down his face and standing up.

"I'd much rather come and scrub your back," he said, his voice low and gravelly and full of desire.

Bella's answering blush made him chuckle as she disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Edward shook his head sadly, but at that moment, Rose clearly decided to just lean on the doorbell, and he knew the irritating noise wouldn't stop until he opened the door.

He pulled on his boxers and went quickly into his own room where he grabbed his jeans from the night before and put them on, before heading to the door of the suite to let his obnoxious PA in.

Rose was still pressing the bell when he threw the door open, making her jump. She glowered at Edward, taking in his bare chest.

"Eww, cover yourself up, Mr C."

She pushed past him into the room and flopped down on one of the couches.

"I've ordered breakfast for three to be delivered—I assumed you two would have worked up an appetite. How was it, by the way?"

"Mind your own damn business, Rose," Edward responded, walking past her to his room. "I'm going to take a shower and get dressed; call me when breakfast arrives."

And with that, he disappeared into his room, leaving Rose to her own musings.

**~o0o~**

The flight back to New York later that morning was uneventful, with neither Bella nor Edward willing to impart even the most miniscule detail of their night together, much to Rose's frustration and annoyance. But she didn't miss the constant, though surreptitious, glances they gave one another throughout the flight.

Touching down at JFK just after four 0'clock in the afternoon, they were relieved to see Emmett waiting for them at Arrivals, none more so than Rose, who despite her cool demeanour, didn't hesitate to reach up and grab her man's hair, pulling him down to her for a deep and resounding kiss.

"Hey, Bear, good to see you," she whispered against his mouth before releasing him. He grinned, and told her he'd missed her too, then turned to look over her shoulder at Edward and Bella.

"Well, welcome home… _Mr and Mrs Cullen_." He burst out laughing, grabbing Edward's hand to pull him into a massive man-hug.

Edward patted him on the back and pulled away, though with some difficulty.

"Okay, okay, enough already," he said, putting his hand on Emmett's solid chest, as if to hold him at bay.

Emmett just smirked at him before turning his attention to Bella, who was cringing slightly behind Edward.

"And where's the blushing bride… the_ literally_ blushing bride?" He guffawed loudly at Bella's discomfiture, drawing glances from others around them.

"Lay off, Em," Edward grumbled, but Bella sighed and stepped into the line of fire.

"It's okay, Edward, let him get it out of his system."

"Why, honeychil', there you are, all growed up and _married!_" Emmett squealed in a high-pitched, pseudo-Southern accent. He gathered her up in his arms, leaving her feet dangling a foot off the ground as he hugged her to him and kissed her on the cheek.

There was a collective rolling of eyes, and Rose smacked him on the arm.

"For fuck's sake, Emmett! Put the poor girl down and let's just get out of here; I'm exhausted," she said, pulling his arm and heading off in the direction of the car park.

**~o0o~**

Edward closed the door behind them. Emmett and Rose had just dropped them off and now they were back in the apartment… alone.

Bella headed straight over to the kitchen to get a drink of water, and he took a moment to look around.

_Was it just yesterday morning I was here? Jesus, it feels like a month ago._

Bella came back and held a glass of water out to him, which he gratefully accepted, taking a long pull of the cold drink.

Taking a sip from her own glass, Bella avoiding looking at Edward. She felt awkward and out of place, the confidence and joy she had felt in that Vegas bedroom rapidly dissipating as she recalled all the conflict which had occurred and the harsh words that she and Edward had exchanged here.

"Well, I think I'll, uh… go unpack and take a shower," she said, turning on her heel and marching quickly to her room.

Edward watched her go, and sighed. This was going to be all kinds of weird, he just knew it. Vegas felt like a dream, some kind of rarefied nirvana, but back in New York, in the real world, being married to Bella just seemed… surreal. It wasn't that he didn't want her, or even that he regretted what had happened—_fuck, why would anyone regret what we did last night and this morning_—it was just that he had no idea how this was going to work now. Would Bella move into his bedroom? Did he have carte blanche to make love to her any time he wanted… well, if she was up for it, of course? Would she be changing her name? What about school? Should he tell Mrs Banner?

He took off his jacket, tossing it over the back of one of the couches and dropping down on the cushions, burying his fingers in his hair. He smiled wryly to himself when he thought about the fact that it was little more than a week ago that Bella had run off to The Helmsley, and he had spent much of that night in this exact same position and a not dissimilar state of mind.

Bella had turned his world upside down in barely more than two weeks—no one, male or female—had had such a major impact on his life, ever, not even his mother. If he was honest, he would have to admit that he didn't even remember her that well. She was rarely around when he was a child, preferring to leave him in the care of nannies, and, of course, it later transpired that the man she married after her divorce from his father was also the man she'd been having an affair with throughout most of that ill-starred union. So, when she left, he hardly noticed.

No such claim could be made with regard to Bella. Even as a child, he had thought her delightful. She had been clever and witty and mature beyond her years, and he had always enjoyed what little time he spent with her before her parents' untimely demise. But things had changed after they died, and Edward had to accept the blame for that. He had been grief-stricken—more so, he believed—than if his own parents had died. He was ill-prepared to take on the guardianship of their daughter, and he knew that he had erected walls to protect himself from loving her too much, for fear he would lose her too. As the years went on, the easy camaraderie he had enjoyed with Bella had disappeared, replaced by his aloofness and her growing rebelliousness and truculence.

Edward stood and walked over to the huge picture windows, drawing the sliding door across and stepping out onto the deck, much as he'd done ten days earlier when fretting over Bella's disappearance.

He knew that he had been the architect of the situation he now found himself in—shirking his emotional responsibilities towards a teenage girl undoubtedly missing her mom and dad, which he had now resolved by means of the absurd and outlandish idea of marrying the girl… fucking _marrying _her.

He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this would end in tears. Yet he had felt powerless to stop himself careening headlong into the very situation which was now taxing his carefully constructed sense of logic.

With both hands braced on either side of him on the balustrade, he watched the sun paint the clouds in a rich tapestry of colour—pink, orange, vermillion and gold—as it dipped low in the sky, a clear harbinger of a beautiful day on the morrow. The events of the past 48 hours seemed unreal, and when he thought about what had happened in that Las Vegas hotel room, his recollection, although exact, felt more like a dream than an actual memory. He recalled looking in the mirror after he'd first made love to Bella and thinking he could make this work.

And the feeling had remained this morning. Waking up next to Bella had been a revelation. He liked morning sex as much as the next man, but he rarely woke up wrapped so tightly around the woman sharing his bed. In fact, it was something he couldn't really ever remember doing, as he was not, by any means, a tactile man or a clingy lover and, if challenged, would have to admit that, in a perfect world, he would be happy not to have to sleep with a woman. Fuck her, yes—all night long if she was hot and he was horny—but sleep with her? Nah, not so much.

But this morning had been different and had taken him by surprise. He had woken to the delicious sensation of Bella's gorgeous ass rubbing against his substantial morning wood, and quickly registered the fact that he was pretty much entwined with her, his senses assaulted by her wondrous scent, and his body fine-tuned to her every sound and movement.

What followed was pretty fucking amazing and—again, totally contrary to his usual behaviour—he had relished the aftermath, holding her to him as their hearts beat a crazy tattoo in perfect harmony. It was as if that room in Vegas had been some kind of Shangri-La, cut off from the rest of the world, where time stood still and miracles could happen.

But now they were back in New York, a distance of little more than 2,200 miles, but a whole other world away. Edward was finding it difficult, if not impossible, to reconcile what had happened there with the life that existed for them here. Even the simple matter of polite conversation was currently eluding him—he had no idea what to say or how to go forward from here.

_Shit, I'm just going round in circles with this._

Edward rubbed his face and shivered in the cooling evening air. The sun had completely set now, the temperature dropping exponentially, chasing him back indoors to contemplate his next move.

**~o0o~**

In her room, Bella sat on her bed, wrapped in a towel following a quick shower. Her thoughts ran along similar lines to Edward's as she tried, without success, to make sense of the events of the last couple of days. She cringed inwardly when she thought about the rank stupidity of running off with James—although she couldn't entirely regret it, as it had brought Edward to her in a way she had never imagined possible.

Last night and this morning had been, without doubt, the best moments of her life—moments she would be happy to repeat ad infinitum. But she could already feel Edward slipping away from her, the distance between them seeming to grow in direct proportion to the miles they put between Vegas and New York.

If their homecoming heralded a return to the emotional wasteland she had endured these last three and a half years, she really thought she might run away for good—go to Alaska, change her name, and never come back.

Her depressive musings were interrupted by her newly-charged phone beeping to indicate a text message. Unlocking the screen, Bella smiled when she saw it was from Jess—apparently one of many over the last couple of days.

*Im calling the police*

Bella frowned, then scrolled back to look at all the other messages.

*Marred? Whos bin marred? Did u get another tat?*

*Where the fuck r u? Have you fallen down a well or been eaten by a giant junk food addict?*

"Where r u? Don't leave me hanging*

"Bellend u tit! Text me!*

"Oh bugger, u didn't mean married did u? RING ME*

*Bella, answer ur fucking fone*

*If ur not already dead imma gonna kill u*

*Bell please text or call, please*

*Im calling Ed*

Bella returned to her contacts and tapped Jess's speed dial. She knew it was still early enough in the UK, and, to prove her right, the phone was answered on the second ring.

"_BELLA!_" Jess shouted in greeting, forcing her to hold the handset away from her ear.

"Calm down, Jess—"

"_Calm down?_ I'll give you fucking 'calm down,' you… you…" she spluttered ineffectually.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? Jess, please, I am _so_ sorry."

She heard a shaky intake of breath on the other end of the line and squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened to spill over.

"I should think so, you silly twonk. What were you thinking, sending that ridiculous text and then completely disappearing? Laurie is… oh shit, I need to go tell her you're okay—after I scrape her off the ceiling!"

"Oh God, I'm sorry. Is she okay? And please tell me you didn't call the police, Jess."

Jessica sighed. "No, I didn't call the police—although I bloody should have. And yeah, Laurie'll be fine. You know what a drama queen she is. I mean, you've never heard such a load of old pony as the stuff she was coming out with."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"Ha, like you being abducted by aliens, or discovering you're actually the bastard spawn of dirt-poor, illiterate, first cousins from Tennessee… or the best one, that you and Edward got married in Vegas—which nonsense, I might add, made her cry into her Coco Pops." Jess giggled at her own joke, but quickly stopped when Bella didn't join in with her laughter.

"Bell, you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, still here, Jess. Um, why don't you go tell Laurie I'm okay and, uh, I'll talk to you later."

"Nuh-uh, minger, Lauren can wait. I need to know what's going on with you. To quote Sherlock Holmes, 'when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, _however improbable_, must be the truth.' Ergo_,_ I'm guessing we can discount ridiculous theories one and two, leaving just ridiculous theory number three… Oh. My. Fucking. _God_! Isabella Marie Swan! That text…You did not… did you?"

"Uhh…"

"Holy shit, Bella—you so did! Oh my God, I can't believe it. This is… oh crikey, I don't know what to say... this is… huge… gargantuan… _colossal!_" Jess's voice got progressively higher and squeakier until she ran out of steam.

"I'm not sure I know what to say either," Bella said quietly, trying to maintain a sense of proportion in the face of Jessica's budding and uncharacteristic hysteria.

There was no response on the other end, except for some panting and the sound of a door slamming, and Bella realised that Jess was on the move—which could only mean one thing.

A moment later, her suspicions were confirmed when she heard another door open and shut, accompanied by the muffled sound of Jessica's voice, closely followed by a moment of silence and then an ear-splitting shriek—Lauren!

There was more muttering and sounds of movement and jostling, and then the echoey sound of the phone being put on speaker.

"Well, well, well. Slap me with a buttered kipper, Izzy's been a _very_ busy bee," Lauren announced, sounding deceptively calm. Bella waited, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep it up, especially when she heard Jessica's tell-tale snigger. She held the phone away from her ear in anticipation of the inevitable explosion.

"_WAAAAAHHHHH!_" Lauren's scream could probably out-do Dr Frankenstein when it came to waking the dead.

"You… you… _arrgghhhhh_. I hate you! What am I gonna doooooo?" she whined. Bella heard a bump and guessed Lauren had slumped to the floor. "Oh God, I might as well join a nunnery now if you've got the only man worth having." There was an exaggerated sigh, followed by a loud exclamation of pain.

Bella frowned. "What's going on?"

"Oh, just ignore her, Bell. I just pinched her fat arse to give her something to really cry over. Sod all that, what we really want to know is, has Edward managed to open your child-proof container?"

"_What?!"_

She heard Lauren snort with laughter.

"Did his Martian probe enter Venus's atmosphere?"

Bella started giggling then, but Jess wasn't finished.

"Has Edward taken the stabilisers off your bicycle? Has he unhinged your minge? In short, Bellend, did you present Mr Todger with the key to Furry City?"

Bella was doubled up with laughter, tears streaming from her eyes and snot bubbling from her nose, as she snorted and hiccupped uncontrollably. She gasped for air and plucked at her towel where it was tucked in over her breasts, pulling it up to wipe her face.

It was at that moment that Edward chose to knock on her door and push it open.

"Bella, can we…? Good God, are you okay?" Edward stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the sight of Bella's tear-stained face and running nose and, as ever with this infuriating girl, he found himself at odds with himself, as conflicting feelings of concern and desire warred within him.

On the bed, Bella scrabbled to secure her unravelling towel one-handed, heat rising in her cheeks despite the fact that she was well aware that Edward had already pretty much seen it all.

"Shit, shit, shit. Jess, gotta go—"

"_WHAT?_ Noooo, you didn't answer. We want details!" came the squawked response.

"I'll call you later… and don't tell anyone," Bella whisper-yelled, pressing 'end call.' She flung the phone down so she could twist away from Edward's continued scrutiny and finally got the towel wrapped securely back around her.

She turned back to him, trying her best not to meet his gaze.

"Bloody hell, Edward, it's not very gentlemanly to stare at a girl during a wardrobe malfunction," she huffed.

Edward smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall.

"I've never claimed to be a gentleman, B, and I'm not sure what more you have that I haven't already seen."

Bella's blush deepened, spreading down beyond the cover of her towel. She knew no good would come of continuing this line of conversation.

"What do you want?" she asked tersely.

Edward's eyebrow arched, his smirk growing.

"Now there's a leading question."

He watched as she squirmed with embarrassment, finally taking pity on her.

"Put some clothes on, Bella—it's way too distracting to have this conversation with you when you're half naked. I'll order pizza while you get dressed, and you can join me when you're ready. As I was going to say when I came in, we need to talk."

He turned and left the room without another word.

* * *

**Translation:**  
Load of old pony – pony and trap = crap  
Minge – slang for vagina (Remember? It rhymes with hinge? As opposed to 'minger' which rhymes with ringer LOL!)


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Big thanks to MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Half an hour after Edward's untimely entrance, Bella emerged from her room, freshly showered and dressed in black leggings and one of her favourite t-shirts—it was small, tight and bright pink, with the words "YES! I'M A FUCKING PRINCESS!" emblazoned across her chest in huge black lettering. She made her way to the kitchen just as Edward came back from the door carrying a large pizza box, and he watched her as she sauntered, barefoot, to the sink to get a drink of water. She was pulling her damp hair up into a high ponytail, and the ridiculously tiny t shirt, which she'd either grown out of or deliberately bought a size too small, rode up to reveal a wide swathe of pale, smooth skin. It wasn't difficult to see that she was bra-less and Edward was unable to suppress a soft groan which, mercifully, Bella didn't hear.

She filled a glass and turned, leaning against the sink as she sipped her water. When she saw the pizza box she immediately pushed away and walked over to the counter.

"Lord, that smells good. What did you get? I'm bloody famished." She looked up at Edward expectantly and he couldn't help smiling at her lovely, open face. Scrubbed of make-up, her pale skin glowed and with her hair up, she was all long neck, big brown eyes and high cheekbones.

She really was an exceptional beauty.

He turned the pizza box around to face her and opened the lid.

"Pepperoni and mushrooms, just the way you like it," he said.

"Ooh, my favourite!" she cried, delving into the box to grab a slice. Taking a huge bite, she grinned around her mouthful of food, chewing and swallowing quickly.

"Ummmm, scrummy yummy in my tummy," she moaned. Edward just rolled his eyes and turned away.

"You want a glass of red?" he asked her, holding up a bottle of Californian Merlot from which he'd already drunk a glass.

Bella's hand stalled halfway to her mouth and she gave Edward an incredulous look. "Wow, really?"

Edward sighed. "Yes, really. I think we could both do with a glass of wine after the weekend we've had. Come on, let's go make ourselves comfortable." He picked up the two glasses from the counter, indicating that Bella should bring the pizza, before heading over to the sofas.

When they were both seated, each at either end of the same couch and turned to face one another with the pizza positioned between them on an old newspaper, Edward poured them both a glass of wine and handed Bella her drink.

"Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against hers.

"Cheers, Edward… and thanks." She smiled at him, then grabbed another slice of pizza.

For a moment, there was just the sound of them chewing and the chink of their glasses as they picked them up and set them down. After a few minutes, Edward picked up a remote control, pointing it at an expensive looking piece of hi-fi, and the room was suddenly filled with a haunting piano riff.

Bella put down her pizza and wiped her hands on the kitchen roll she'd brought over.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh, it's a band called Return to Forever. Ever heard of Chick Corea?" She shook her head. "Oh, well he was big in the 70s playing jazz fusion. This is 'Romantic Warrior,' do you like it?"

Bella nodded. "Yeah, it's good—like, really_, really_ good." She grinned at him.

"I'll play it from the beginning," he said, pointing the remote again.

The music restarted and he turned back to look at her. She was sitting cross-legged facing him, leaning back against the arm of the sofa but with her head resting to the side against the back of the couch, eyes closed.

_Fuck, she's beautiful. I don't think I could ever tire of looking at her._

He fought with himself not to reach across and run his fingers across her cheek. Who knew where that sort of gesture might lead. Instead, he put down the remains of his pizza, wiped his hands and took a big swig of wine.

As the track came to its dramatic close, Bella opened her eyes and looked directly into the cool moss shade of Edward's intense gaze.

"Bella." He spoke her name in little more than a whisper, making her shiver. He fought a losing battle with the horny bastard inside of him, his eyes dropping inexorably to the bold print across her breasts, which were now tipped with very erect, very prominent nipples.

Bella's eyes followed his and she chuckled as she suddenly slapped her hands over her chest. Biting her lip, she looked up at him, not even trying to hide her amusement.

"Oops." She sniggered.

Edward scowled at her. _Goddammit! Why does she always get me on the back foot?_

Sighing, he got up and went over to one of the dining chairs, over the back of which he had earlier draped a green, v-neck pullover.

"Here, put this on if you're cold," he said, walking back across the room and thrusting the sweater at her.

Wordlessly, she took the proffered article of clothing and slung it around her shoulders, loosely tying the arms to partially conceal the overt sign of her arousal.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now, as I was saying earlier, we should talk… about what happens next." Edward sat back down, pulling his leg onto the cushions to sit side on so he was facing her.

Bella's face fell a little, but she nodded, looking down and plucking an invisible piece of lint off the couch.

"Okay, then. Well, we're obviously married now, and tomorrow we need to meet with the lawyers and show them the marriage certificate. You understand what this means, Bella?" He dipped his head to draw her attention away from the cushion.

Finally she looked up. "Um, well, I guess we can sleep together?"

The saucy minx of a few minutes ago was gone and in her place was shy Bella, refusing to meet his eyes as colour flooded her cheeks—he really never knew who to expect.

Edward groaned in frustration, running his hand through his messy locks.

"That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for, Bella. What I mean is that my legal status as your guardian no longer exists. Your… our marriage renders it null and void."

Bella finally looked at him, her mouth opening to speak, but Edward stopped her by holding up his index finger.

"_However…"_ he paused to make sure she was listening, "the relevant codicil to your father's Will requires that, regardless of your marital status, I remain your adviser and retain a measure of control over your money, a considerable portion of which will now be released to you."

"How much?"

Edward cocked an eyebrow. "Hmm, mercenary little thing aren't you?"

Bella waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Okay, well, you do, of course, have a right to know. I don't know the exact figures involved, as I haven't had an update for a while, but I guess it will be something in the order of ten million sterling."

Bella looked at him, nodding her head. "Wow," she said softly, "that _is_ a lot of money."

"Yes, Bella, it is, and I need to know if I can trust you not to pull any more ridiculous—not to say, dangerous—stunts. I may no longer be your guardian, but I am your husband and I am still someone who cares about your safety and welfare."

Bella's expression darkened to one of deep sadness.

"Huh, ever the romantic, eh?" she said quietly.

"Oh, B, please tell me you're not expecting declarations of undying love and devotion?"

Edward managed to sound both incredulous and frustrated all at once, and Bella had to turn her face way from him, desperately holding on to the tears which threatened to overflow.

"No, I guess not," she said, her voice low and devoid of expression.

"Look, we're married, for better or worse, and you got the wedding night you wanted. As for your status, you now have a controlling interest in Swan Publishing and a lot more money than you need, although you still won't be allowed to sit on the Board until you're 18. I will retain your power of attorney in all matters relating to the business, and even after you reach the age of majority, the terms of Charlie's Will specify that I will have a power of veto over any decisions you may make until you are twenty-one. The bulk of your fortune will be released to you when you're twenty-five. The lawyers can explain this in more detail tomorrow, and draw up the necessary paperwork. Okay?"

Bella reached over to the coffee table for her glass, draining it and grabbing the bottle to refill it. Edward thought he probably should stop her, but quite honestly he thought they both needed it.

Turning back to him, Bella put the glass to her lips and sipped at it before replacing it on the table.

"And what about us?" she asked, feeling shy and awkward and a little bit stupid, but determined, nevertheless, to get him to talk about what had happened between them.

Edward rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"Shit, Bella, what do you want me to say? Last night was, in all likelihood, a colossal mistake, but it's done and we need to make the best of it. This way, at least, I can hopefully stop you from making an even worse mistake. And you'll be going back to school soon, and then, before you know it, you'll be off to college, and there's a pretty good chance you won't give me a second thought—"

He stopped speaking as Bella uncoiled her long legs and stood up slowly, looking down at him.

"Right, yeah… a colossal mistake… wow, that's… Okay, Edward, you've made your point. This is a gross inconvenience and a major pain in the arse for you… I get it, really I do… no need to keep twisting the blade."

He looked up as the tremble in her voice threatened to overtake her.

"Bella—"

"No, it's okay… good point, well made, Mr Cullen. So I guess I can assume there's not going to be any more… _sex_."

"Oh, God, Bella… shit, I don't know. I mean, it's probably not a good idea, is it?"

"I don't know, Edward, I thought you were supposed to have all the answers. So, if you don't want to fuck me, I guess it's okay for me to find someone who does, then?"

Edward's head shot up, and he leapt to his feet, grabbing her by her upper arms.

"_What?! _No! Absolutely not! You're my wife!"

Edward was enraged. The very idea of another man so much as touching her, let alone… _fuck, no, I'm not even going to think it._

Bella looked up at him, taken aback by his words and the vehemence with which he'd said them. At that point, it probably would have been politic of her to back-track and placate him, but once again her instinct was to lash out.

"Your _wife?_ Ha, you say that like I'm some kind of possession, to be sealed up in a glass display case and never allowed to be touched," she spat. "And what are you going to be doing while I'm locked into a metaphorical chastity belt, eh? Does the same rule apply to you, or are you going to be sticking it in Tanya every chance you get? Why should you care if I'm shagging someone else now that they can't get their hands on my money?"

She knew immediately that she'd pushed him too far. His nostrils flared and his lips were pulled into a thin line. But it wasn't those things which unsettled her.

It was the fury… the _wildness_ she saw in his eyes, the brilliant green of his irises almost completely eclipsed by his dark, fully-dilated pupils.

Bella froze, suddenly, for the first time in her life, scared of this man she loved as he continued to glare down at her, his hands clutching her arms in a vice-like grip. Her gaze was fixed on his, like a deer caught in headlights, oblivious to the bruises which would inevitably develop.

"Do not test me, Isabella," Edward hissed. "The reason for this whole fucking debacle was to keep you safe and out of the clutches of losers and gold-diggers. Do _not_ fuck this up by acting like a spoilt brat."

His words cut into Bella like a knife. What she imagined, for just the briefest moment, to be jealousy was just Edward worrying about his business interests, and she dropped her head in defeat, finally becoming aware of how tightly he was holding her.

"Let me go, Edward, you're hurting me," she told him dully.

His eyes finally pulling away from her face and focussing on her arms, he barked an expletive and dropped his hands from her.

"Shit, I'm sorry… I…" He trailed off, turning away and gripping the back of his neck.

"S'okay. I'm going to bed." Bella needed to be anywhere but there with Edward at that moment, and exhaustion finally crashed in on her.

"Bella…" Edward swung around, but she was already walking away. He sighed, dropping his hand to his side. "Yeah, you're probably right, get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Bella paused and spoke without turning around. "Okay. Goodnight, Edward."

**~o0o~**

Edward sat on the couch and poured the last of the wine into his glass, together with what Bella had left behind, and glanced at his watch. It was half past midnight on Sunday night and he calculated that he had had about six hours' sleep since Friday—he was beyond tired, but his mind wouldn't stop and he knew that any kind of worthwhile rest would elude him yet again. He swallowed down the wine and rubbed his hand over his face.

_Christ, what a mess I've made of every damn thing._

He took another pull of his wine and leaned back on the couch, experiencing a sudden, overwhelming craving for a cigarette. He'd given up three years ago, under Tanya's influence—something he'd been grateful for at the time, but which he now cursed her for—and he could honestly say this was the first time he'd really, _really_ wanted one since.

Sighing, he took another sip of his wine and was surprised to find his glass was empty—which meant that, apart from the glass Bella had drunk, he had consumed a whole bottle.

_Dammit to hell, woman, you're killing me._

Edward stood, picking up the empty glasses, bottle and pizza box, and made his way to the kitchen. He banged his knee on the arm of the sofa, nearly dropping everything, and then, on his way back, stubbed his toe on the breakfast bar, causing him to swear loudly and at length. He hopped around on one foot, rubbing his stricken toe until he fell against the counter, cracking his hip bone and prompting ever more colourful language.

"Fuck, fuck, shitballs and _dammit_, you motherfucking_ bastard!_" he roared, oblivious, in his pain and fury, to the sound of Bella's bedroom door being flung open and the slap of her bare feet as she ran into the kitchen.

"_Edward!_ Oh my God, are you okay?"

Edward swung around, and immediately forgot the throbbing in his toe and his hip—replaced, as it was, by the all new and much more interesting throb between his legs. His gaze raked slowly down Bella's body and back up, taking in the thin, silk camisole with spaghetti straps and the tiny lace briefs in matching ice-blue, which made her smooth, pale skin glow like polished alabaster.

And there was, indeed, a profligacy of said skin, from her shoulders, arms and barely concealed décolletage, to her long, long legs… with a tantalising strip between her camisole and her underwear, to which Edward's eyes were inexorably drawn.

Her hair was a cloud of dark chestnut, surrounding her beautiful, heart-shaped face in perfect disarray. Edward wanted to bury his face in her neck and inhale the scent of her skin and her hair. He wanted to feel the silken, chocolate strands between his fingers and her wondrous flesh pressed against him. He wanted to slide inside her and stay there, feeling her move beneath him and clamp around him, his name on her lips in supplication. He wanted her... wanted… _this_… marriage, sex… all of it… with her.

His eyes drifted back to hers. She stood frozen to the spot, as if the sheer potency of his desire had rendered her paralysed… immobile.

Edward, on the other hand, was not immobile. Without a word, his pain forgotten, he strode towards her until they were standing toe to toe. He looked down at her, slowly raising his hand and, after a moment's hesitation, cupping her cheek, before sliding his fingers up and into her hair.

"You should run away from me, little girl," he said, his voice soft and low, "before I destroy you."

"You won't," she whispered in response.

Edward squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, and then, opening them, looked back down at her.

"Then I'm very much afraid you will destroy me," he told her.

Bella stared up at him, and tentatively placed her hand over his heart. "I won't, Edward, I promise," she replied softly, afraid to break the spell of whatever it was that was happening right then.

He smiled ruefully. "I know you won't mean to, Bella, but you will."

She shook her head vehemently. "No—"

He stopped her protest by drawing his hand down and placing his fingers over her lips.

"It doesn't matter, Bella, it's too late. I just… I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore."

Bella swallowed and shut her eyes, kissing his fingertips before taking hold of his wrist and pulling his hand away from her mouth.

"Then don't."

His eyes flashed emerald fire and before she knew what was happening he had swept her up in his arms, making her heart leap in her chest as if she'd just crested a peak on a rollercoaster. Her eyes widened and she threw her arms around his neck, although there was little danger he was going to drop her, the corded muscles in his arms and back easily supporting her as if she weighed no more than a child.

Wordlessly, Edward went straight to his bedroom, stopping when he reached the door and looking from it to her. Understanding dawned immediately and Bella leaned down to turn the doorknob so that he could enter the room without putting her down.

Inside, the sparsely furnished room seemed vast, occupying most of the rear of the apartment and with views north and west. On the right was his bathroom and dressing room, and set off centre was a huge bed with a leather-covered, padded headboard, all in black, with black and white bed linen. The walls were also black and white, and there were framed, monochrome photographs of varying sizes and scenes on the wall—some were street scenes, others were landscapes and seascapes, but all had a somewhat bleak quality to them, especially in the low light cast by a cascading light array coming down from the ceiling next to the bed.

As Edward laid Bella gently on the big bed, he was struck by the fact that the monochromatic décor of his room suddenly seemed imbued with colour… the warm chocolate of her eyes, the deep mahogany of her hair, the rosy pink of her cheeks and the cherry red of her lips.

He stood for a moment, just looking at her and marvelling at the fact that this heart-stoppingly beautiful woman was his for the taking… if he was prepared to accept the situation.

Bella squirmed beneath the heat of his gaze, finding it difficult to catch her breath. But then she saw the doubt flicker across his handsome features and knew she had but moments to pull Edward back to the moment… back to _her._

Sitting up, she twisted around and up onto her knees in front of him, sliding her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling him until her mouth was just millimetres from his.

Glancing up to see his eyes fixed intently on her, she murmured softly against his lips. "Kiss me, Edward."

It seemed he needed no further encouragement, as his mouth crashed against hers and his hands grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, telling her, without words, just how much he wanted her… and, oh wow, could she feel it.

His tongue invaded her mouth as his hands explored her body, slipping under her camisole and capturing her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples until they were swollen, aching buds of want.

Bella moaned against his lips and pulled away, wordlessly answering his questioning look by reaching across her body and lifting her silky top swiftly over her head and tossing it across the room. Edward turned his head to watch the trajectory of the skimpy garment as it flew through the air and landed atop a tall lamp positioned next to a black leather couch set against the wall. He looked back at her and smirked.

"Nice aim."

He let his eyes fall to her breasts, taking a moment to appreciate their sublime perfection, before once again lifting his gaze to Bella's.

She gasped at the heat… the sheer naked desire she saw in his eyes and wondered if it was mirrored in her own.

"I want you, Edward… please," she told him, her voice holding an edge of desperation.

"Bella," he breathed, leaning in and trailing soft, wet kisses along the slender column of her neck, until he reached her ear. He then ran his tongue slowly around the edge, dipping it into the shell, before finally taking her lobe between his teeth and gently nibbling at the plump flesh.

He felt her shiver in his arms and press herself against him so tightly that he could feel her hardened nipples through his shirt.

"Oh, B, I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you'll remember nothing but my name…" Edward laid her trembling body back down on the bed, then started to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. When he was naked he climbed up on the bed, kneeling over her on all fours.

"Then I'm gonna make love to you until you can't breathe. Is that what you want?"

Bella swallowed, barely able to articulate a single thought or word, other than the soft, desperate entreaty, "Pleeeease!"

In answer to her supplication, he dipped his head and captured a nipple between his lips, causing Bella to moan loudly. He swirled his tongue around the pebbled areola, before suckling enthusiastically on the dark pink, erect nubbin.

Bella arched her back, pushing her breasts up… offering them to him. And Edward did not hesitate to take his fill, swapping over to her other breast and giving it equal attention before heading south. He well recalled the delectable honey nectar he had encountered that first night in Vegas and he wanted more—much more.

Bella flung her hands up above her head and then brought them back down to grip Edward's hair.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Edward… ohhhhh!"

The ecstasy of the moment, the unmitigated joy of having him do the things he was doing to her, first with his tongue and then with his fingers, was almost too much to bear. She trembled and moaned, her body aching for him with such an intensity she genuinely thought she might die if he didn't stop soon and put his cock inside her.

"Edward… fuck me… oh god… fuck me, please," she cried as her orgasm took her completely by surprise, rolling through her like a rogue wave.

Edward pulled his fingers from her and sat back on his haunches, looking down at her. In the dim light he could just make out the black swirl of ink etched low on her pelvis and determined that he would have to get a closer look in the morning light. For now, his dick was weeping for want of her and he knew he couldn't deny the poor guy any longer.

He looked up at her face, her eyelids hooded with desire and a small smile playing across her lips.

"Turn over," he said, low and husky.

Bella let out a small gasp, but complied, rolling over onto her stomach, as he straddled her legs. Just as she turned her head to try and look at him over her shoulder, she felt his strong hands grip her hips and pull her up onto all fours in one swift motion, causing her to let out a small cry of astonishment. She felt him lean forward, pressing his cock between her arse cheeks as he reached for the drawer of the bedside table.

She wanted to stop him, to tell him it was okay… she wanted to feel _all of him_ inside her. But she was afraid he wouldn't believe her about being on the Pill, that he might think she was trying to trap him, and there was no way she was going to bring this to a premature end by spoiling the mood.

He snagged a condom from the drawer and she could hear him putting it on behind her. Then she felt his hands stroking her bottom, gently squeezing it, like he was testing a melon for ripeness.

"Christ, B, you've got a fucking fantastic ass," he told her enthusiastically, and she couldn't help giggling.

"Really?" she asked, smiling at him over her shoulder.

"Really." He gave each cheek one more squeeze, and then she felt the tip of his cock against her opening. "This isn't going to be gentle, B," he warned, thrusting into her hard and fast.

"Fuuuu—" Bella's cry was cut short, as Edward immediately set up a punishing rhythm, pistoning in and out of her at a frenetic pace, robbing her of both breath and speech.

For some minutes the only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh on flesh and their gasping, stertorous breathing.

Bella met every thrust with her own, the intensity of the pleasure sending her plunging towards another orgasm as she fought to remember to breathe. When finally she was able to pull in a lungful of air, all she could say, all she could _think_, all she could do was shout his name.

"_Ehhdd-WARD!_" The rest was just a long, drawn-out cry as he increased the tempo, now bent over her back, moulded to her, his face buried in her neck as his hips jerked manically against her, his cock slamming deep inside her. With his left arm now locked beside hers, he brought his fingers up to rub furiously at her clit.

"Again, Bella, come for me again," he urged. "I wanna… feel you… oh, fuck…"

Edward groaned loudly as he felt Bella clench and spasm around him, her cries just a garbled litany of his name and random expletives. Her arms gave out and she went down on her forearms, only staying on her knees by virtue of Edward's iron grip on her hips.

Behind her, his thrusts became both frantic and erratic as he felt his cock grow impossibly harder. He could feel his balls tighten as a tingling sensation rushed out from his groin to each extremity and nerve-ending, heightening his every sense. He drove himself hard into her once more, as deep as he could get, roaring one extended four-letter word as his seed shot out of him in seemingly vast quantities.

"Jesus fuck, Bella," he growled as her legs and arms finally gave out and she collapsed, exhausted, taking Edward with her, his weight pushing her into the mattress, pinning her there. He could feel her heart pounding through her back, in perfect synchronicity with his own, and he pressed his lips to her shoulder. He slid his hands up to where hers were resting on the pillow either side of her head, and entwined his fingers with hers.

After a moment, as he continued to rain kisses down on every centimetre of skin he could reach, Bella turned her head, making a low humming sound. Edward pushed her hair to one side so he could attack her neck, moving on to her jaw and up to her ear.

"Ummmm, Edward," she mumbled, squeezing his fingers between hers.

"Am I too heavy? Should I move?" he asked softly, clearly not in a hurry to get off her unless she demanded it. Besides which, his softening cock was still inside her and he definitely didn't want to move that part of his anatomy.

Bella just hummed again. He was heavy, and she would have to ask him to get up in a minute, but right now, in this moment, she couldn't contemplate asking him to move an inch.

Edward paused in his mission to find Bella's most sensitive spot above the neck to nuzzle his nose into the hair behind her ear, and smirked at the soft sounds that were emanating from this incredible woman, which were so redolent of a deep contentment… she was like a sleepy, sated feline, and it was extraordinarily erotic.

Sadly, however, Edward was a thirty-one year old man, not a seventeen-year-old teenager, and with the best will in the world, he knew it was going to take him at least fifteen or twenty minutes to recover from Round One in order to move on to Round Two.

Then the luscious, sinfully tempting girl beneath him started to squirm.

_Oh fuck me, that feels good._

"Umm, Edward, you're going to have to move… _ohh_!"

Bella had finally realised she was running out of air, trapped as she was between the mattress and a very hard bodied Edward, and started to wriggle a little in the hope that he would get the hint. But then, just as she started to ask him to move she felt him twitch and harden inside her, prompting her exclamation of surprise.

For his part, Edward was no less astonished, as he hadn't recovered that fast for many years, and seldom after such a powerful orgasm. Experimentally, he gave a small thrust into her, eliciting a gasp of pleasure and causing his dick to harden exponentially.

"Jesus wept, Bella," he groaned, "you are going to do me serious damage."

Bella giggled, wiggling her arse again as much as she could. "Ooh, well, I don't know about damaging you, but I really want to do you."

"Arrgghhh!" Edward cried out, pulling out of her suddenly as he raised himself up on his hands and knees and quickly flipped her over.

"Oh, baby, bring it on!"


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks, as always, to MauiGirl60, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar - I wish I could give you all a hug in person.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**Monday 11 April 2011**

Bella stood in Edward's massive wet-room shower, jets of water pummelling her naked body from all directions. A part of her wished that Edward had offered to share it with her, but the other, less stupid part of her brain told her it was just as well he hadn't. She felt a little like she'd been run over by a truck, and her poor, inexperienced vaj was a tad sore. It was a good soreness, but nevertheless, she thought it might be sensible to give it a bit of a breather.

Edward had been true to his word, fucking her into a screaming mess, then making love to her until they both fell into a deep, untroubled sleep, wrapped in one another's arms.

In the early, pre-dawn hours, Bella had crept out of bed to use the bathroom and get a glass of water, not bothering to put any clothes on. Standing at the sink, she had drunk deeply, before refilling her glass and turning to head back to bed, whereupon she had almost dropped her drink in surprise as she saw Edward standing in the entrance.

She made a kind of squawking noise as cold water slopped over the rim of her glass and splashed on her bare feet and the floor.

Edward just stood there, staring. Unlike Bella, he had attempted to cover himself up by donning a pair of soft, black cotton pyjama bottoms, but to Bella's newly discerning eye, they were almost more sexily provocative than if he had been completely nude, hanging loose and low on his hips in a positively shameful way that just screamed _'yank 'em down.'_ Neither did they do much to hide his very prominent and growing arousal as his eyes raked slowly up and down her naked form.

He stared at her, scratching his chest lazily as a massive yawn overtook him.

"You… you made me jump," Bella said, a little desperate to break the silence.

Edward smirked at her. "Yeah, I got that," he drawled, dropping his arm and sauntering towards her.

Bella's eyes widened, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to move or escape his hooded gaze.

He stopped right in front of her and reached up to take the glass from her hand. Without taking his eyes from hers he put the glass to his lips and took a long drink of the cool water, noting that her eyes flickered to his Adam's apple as he swallowed, before lurching back to his when he put the glass down on the counter behind her.

He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers—now chilled from holding the cool glass—down her cheek.

Bella shivered.

"Are you cold?" he asked her.

"N—no, not cold… not cold at all… pretty… um, hot, actually..."

"Oh, B, you've got that right," he told her, his voice dripping sensuality.

Bella closed her eyes and let out a long, low moan, her knees giving way. She would have collapsed in a heap at his feet if he hadn't grabbed her hips, pressing her into the granite counter.

_Bloody hell, _she thought_, talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place._

Without further words, Edward dipped his head and captured her bottom lip with his, sucking it gently into his mouth, before doing the same to her top lip. He then slowly circumnavigated her parted lips with his tongue, before sliding into the warm, wet, haven of her mouth, feeling her open up to him as he matched her groan. He slid his hands down from her hips to cup her bottom, pulling her in closer and convulsively grinding his aching cock against her abdomen.

Suddenly, Bella gasped as he lifted her up and sat her on the counter, quickly pushing her legs apart and pressing himself against her hot, slick opening—just the thin material of his pyjama bottoms preventing him from gaining entry.

Bella made a soft, whimpering sound as she felt Edward's mouth leave trails of fire up her neck, her whimper turning to a gasp as his hands on her hips suddenly pulled her forward against his massive erection. Her mouth crashed against his, and she threw her arms around his neck, while her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him in place, feeling him… right _there._

"Bella…" he moaned as he moved against her, desperate for friction.

"Pleeeaasse," she begged, and pushed her legs down, dragging his pyjamas with her feet until she got them past his hips, from where they fell down and pooled at his ankles.

A moment later they both cried out as he quickly impaled her on his rigid cock and immediately took up a fast, hard rhythm.

_Feels so fucking good, _he thought.

"Oh my… oh my… oh… myyyy _Godddd…_ Edward… yes… yes… yes… yes…" Bella chanted in time with his furious thrusts, and they both knew this wouldn't take long.

"Fuck, Bella, come on… I'm gonna cum, love…"

Bella gasped, jerking hard against him as her walls clamped down on him convulsively, spurred on not just by his wondrous cock, but also by the endearment he chose to use.

"Fuck, yeah," she cried as she felt him pour himself into her.

She held him tight within the twin circles of her arms and legs, as he dropped his head to her shoulder and they both fought to steady their thundering hearts.

Suddenly, Bella felt Edward stiffen… and not in a good way. His head flew up and she raised her own to look at him, his eyes wide and panic-stricken.

"What? Jesus, Edward, what is it?" Bella asked, her voice rising as his panic infected her.

"Fuck, Bella, we didn't use a condom," he said, sounding distraught.

Bella sighed, her shoulders dropping with relief, but also with a niggling disappointment as she noted how scared he was of impregnating her. She knew she should be glad, and God knows she was way too young to have a child, especially within such a marriage of convenience, which was how she assumed Edward still viewed it, but she couldn't help feeling somewhat let down by his antipathy towards the whole idea.

She pulled her arms from around his shoulders and put her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks.

"Hey, don't worry—"

"Don't worry? Don't fucking _worry?! _Christ, Bella, what if you're—"

Bella pressed her fingers to his mouth, blocking further comment.

"It's okay, Edward, I'm on the Pill," she told him softly.

He frowned, making her hiss as he pulled out of her and lifted her down from the counter. Gripping the worktop on either side of her hips, he effectively trapped her, preventing her from moving.

"How long have you been using birth control," he asked—or, perhaps more accurately, demanded.

Bella rolled her eyes, her assumption that Edward would have no recollection of the matter confirmed.

"Duh… since I was fourteen, Edward—Mrs Banner wrote to you asking for your consent… which actually pissed me off because as far as I'm concerned, it should just have been between me and the doctor, and Banjax shouldn't have said anything to you, because that's just sooo humiliating, and bloody Matron shouldn't have told _her—_that's, like, a breach of my human rights or something, not to say illegal… well, I think it's illegal—anyway, it wasn't because I was, like, shagging around, just… you know… 'cos my periods were so painful and heavy, and—"

Bella's ramble was stopped abruptly by Edward clapping his hand over her mouth, which made her finally look at him. He had a slightly pained look on his face, but there was also a hint of a smile lurking, which he was clearly trying hard to suppress.

"Jesus, B, verbal diarrhoea much? And waaaayyy too much information."

He felt her start to grin against his hand and he was suddenly aware of her lips on his palm. He pulled it away, and, sure enough, she had a big smile on her face.

"Sorry, but I was worried you would think… you know… that I was taking it so I could… well, you know… sleep around or whatever, and I'm not—"

"Bella, it's okay, I understand. I just wish you'd told me before I nearly had a fucking heart attack at the thought of knocking you up."

Bella pouted and looked away from him. "Wow, Edward, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she mumbled.

Edward sighed, slipping his index finger under her chin and lifting her head to look at him.

"Hey, come on, that's not what I meant—and I'm pretty sure the last thing you want right now is a baby. Christ, Bella, you're only seventeen and you've got your whole life ahead of you."

She nodded but wouldn't meet his gaze, pulling away from his touch.

"Yeah, you're right. Look, I've got spunk running down my leg, I need to get in the shower. Maybe we should stick with condoms—belt and braces, and all that, plus they'll save a lot of mess."

She pushed against his chest and he stepped back, utterly bemused at the sudden change in her mood. But he let her go, nevertheless, bending down to retrieve his pyjamas, before following her back to the bedroom.

**~o0o~**

Later that day, the two of them met with Jay Jenks, Edward's lawyer, for a conference call with Bella's solicitor in London, Jonathan Harker. The two of them signed some papers there and then, one of which was a quickly drawn up agreement that they would remain married until Bella's 21st birthday. Jonathan told them he would Fed-Ex to New York the documentation relating to her inheritance and the cessation of Edward's guardianship.

After the meeting, he took her to lunch, which Edward was surprised to find was really enjoyable, both of them being more at ease with the other than he would have thought possible. Bella was genuinely interested in the business and eager to talk about what was going on and Edward's plans for the future. She was surprisingly knowledgeable about the publishing world, and, although he wasn't able to go into huge detail, he found himself keen to share what he knew about the share buy-out, and was equally delighted to field Bella's intelligent and insightful questions and comments. As they talked, it occurred to Edward that, with the removal of his legal authority over her and the resolution of her inheritance, their previous difficulties may well have been put to rest.

Or maybe it was just the fact that they had fucked each other's brains out last night and this morning.

That thought, of course, immediately made Edward want to kick himself, as it inevitably led to a rather embarrassing semi in the restaurant.

After lunch, he went back to the office and Bella went home to catch up on her studies and phone her friends, who were now texting her almost hourly for details of her 'adventures'.

**~o0o~**

"Isabella Marie Swan, you are such a cow, leaving us dangling like that yesterday."

Bella sighed as she was harangued by her friend. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in front of her laptop, looking at Jessica and Lauren, who were similarly positioned on Lauren's bed, looking pissed off. Well, Jess was clearly pissed off, Lauren just looked wide eyed and excited as she avidly awaited Bella's response.

Maybe Skype-ing them had not been such a good idea.

"Okay, okay, hold the horses, mingers," she sighed. "And it's Isabella Marie _Cullen_ now, if you don't mind."

"Shut _UP!_" Lauren shouted. "You trollop! Oh my days, I can't believe it… Mrs Cullen… bloody hell, Bellend… just…."

Lauren seemed incapable of further articulacy, throwing her arms out and shaking her head in bemusement.

Jess rolled her eyes at her friend and looked back at the screen.

"Lobbie's a twat, of course, but hell's teeth, B, I'm kind of with her on this one. You've only been gone, like, less than three weeks… what the bloody hell happened?"

Bella stared at the screen, trying to decide where to begin. Before she could even start, she was distracted by Lauren waggling her hands in front of her.

"Tell us about the S-E-X, Bell! Is it as good as I just know it must be with Edward I-Am-A-Sex-Machine Cullen? Oh God, has he got a big knob? I bet he has… God, I bet he's hung like a pit-pony! Does he make you c—"

Bella threw her hand up in front of the screen. "If you value your life, Laurie, do _not_ finish that sentence!" she yelled.

The two girls in England turned to look at one another and then started giggling, leaving Bella to roll her eyes at them.

"Do you want to hear this or not, you useless pair of twonks?"

"_YESSSS!"_ they both cried in unison.

So Bella proceeded to tell her two best friends the extraordinary events of the past two and a half weeks, trying to gloss over the worst of her own behaviour—although it was pretty hard to explain away her late night, drunken escapade with James.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me, B? You met a guy in a bar and a few hours later you got on a plane to Las Vegas with him? Are you a _complete_ fuckwit?!" Jess was angry… in fact, she was furious, and even Lauren was looking at Bella with a curious expression on her face… sadness…? d_isappointment?_

Bella looked down at her hands and shook her head.

"I know, I know, it was stupid—"

"Stupid? _STUPID?_ Jesus Christ, Bella, forget stupid—it was absolute lunacy… potentially suicidal lunacy. I can't believe you would do something so… so… _fucking idiotic."_

"Don't you think I know that, Jess," Bella said, her voice dropping and her lower lip trembling as she fought not to cry.

Jessica's expression softened. "Oh, Bell, don't cry. I'm sorry I shouted, but you know it would kill me… would kill us both, if anything happened to you."

Bella nodded, glancing up just in time to see Lauren swipe the heel of her palm across her cheek. She caught Bella's eye and grimaced, pulling her hand away and glaring at her friend.

"Bollocks to all this, has he, or has he not got an enormous todger? Enquiring minds need to know."

Jess slapped her hand to her forehead in mock exasperation. "You are such a wrong 'un, Lobbie… enough with the penis envy."

Bella's giggles turned to outright laughter at this and she had to wipe tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Oh, Laurie… you're cracking me up." She took a deep breath to regain control.

"Well? Has he? I'm not giving up. If you don't tell me, right now, I'll… I'll call Edward and… and tell him you wouldn't say, which makes me thinks it's a Wee Willy Winky." At that she nodded her head and crossed her arms.

Bella laughed, but it was a nervous sounds. "You wouldn't."

"I bloody would… and you know it."

Bella and Lauren stared at each other via webcam for a moment, before Bella had to give in, as she was well aware that her friend was more than capable of doing exactly what she said, as the girl had no shame whatsoever.

"Oh, all right! Yes, he's got a big one… in fact, it's huge. The first time we did it, it felt like I was giving birth to the bloody thing! There… satisfied?"

Bella stared at her two friends, who were now looking a little dazed.

"Bugger me, Bell, did it hurt?" Lauren asked, sounding a little awestruck.

"Not really. I mean, it was a bit uncomfortable, 'cos it was so big, but I can't say it hurt exactly. And he got me so wet—"

At this, Lauren fell backwards again, throwing her arms above her head.

"Bloody hell, Baldrick, what are you trying to do to me? I'm gonna have to go to my room and wank myself silly now," she groaned.

"Lauren, you burke, we're already in your room," Jessica said.

"Oh, yeah! Well, you better bugger off if you don't want to watch me smack the pony."

Both Bella and Jessica grimaced at one another, which caused them to erupt into giggles again.

"Don't you fucking dare, you dirty perv," Jess gasped through snorts of laughter.

Lauren suddenly sat up, ignoring Jess and peering intently into the webcam.

"Did he go down town for lunch, Bell?"

"_LAUREN!"_ both girls yelled.

"What? Don't tell me you aren't dying of curiosity as well, Jizz. You know you're dying to find out if Edward's as skilful with his tongue as he looks… and don't even get me started on what he can probably do with those weird, bendy fingers of his!"

Jess smirked and looked back at the screen. "So, did he?"

Bella blushed scarlet and put her hands over her face, but the girls were relentless, and before she knew it, she was telling them every gory, fantastic detail of the last two days. Lauren was beside herself and eventually told them both to go away or she was going to get her vibrator out and go play with herself on Jessica's bed, which finally ended the call.

They said their goodbyes and Bella promised to talk to Edward about when she would be coming back to the UK—her friends were desperate to get together with her over the Easter holiday.

Bella closed her laptop, picked up her phone and her Kindle and headed to the kitchen to get a drink and a snack. Just as she reached the living room her phone rang, Edward's ringtone echoing in the cavernous space.

"Hi, Edward, what's up?"

"Dinner in or dinner out?" he asked, without preamble.

"Oh, crikey, um… dinner in, I think. I'm utterly fagged. Do you mind?"

Edward snorted on the other end of the phone. "Even after all these years, I'm still not used to your ridiculous English expressions," he laughed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Uh, 'fagged'… you do know that in America that has a very different meaning than it does in England?"

"Oh, stop being a perv, Edward, you know what I meant," she replied, suppressing a giggle.

"Okay, okay. So, what do you want to eat, I can pick something up on the way."

"Um, I don't know… ooh, ooh, can you get a decent Ruby in New York?"

"A decent… what?" he said, utterly confused.

"A Ruby… a Ruby Murray…? Curry?"

Edward laughed again. "Bella, Bella, Bella," he sighed. "What am I going to do with you."

She smiled and licked her lips, feeling a now familiar fluttering in her abdomen… and much lower down.

"I don't know, Edward… what would you like to do with me?" she murmured softly, her lips brushing the phone.

On the other end, sitting in his office, Edward groaned, feeling his trousers tighten as his cock twitched and swelled at Bella's seductive tone.

"Jesus, B, you can't say stuff like that to me when I'm at work," he told her, sounding pained.

"Whatever do you mean, it was just a simple question," she teased.

"Hmm, maybe we should go out after all." He tried to sound practical and unaffected, with little success.

"Oh no, but all I've got on is one of your shirts and a pair of knickers, and I haven't done any laundry, so I've got nothing—"

"I'll be home in twenty minutes, we can order later."

The phone went dead and Bella grinned to herself, hugging the instrument to her chest. Then she looked down at herself and her smile grew. She had changed out of the suit she'd worn this morning, putting on a long white t-shirt over a pair of black leggings, with a pair of thick, fluffy socks. Not quite the sexy image she had given Edward. She turned and headed to his room to find an appropriate shirt before going back to her own room to shower and change.

**~o0o~**

It was close to midnight, and the room was lit only by the bright, silvery glow of the waning moon as it shone through the huge windows of the apartment, and the flickering light of the muted TV on which played out Andy Dufresne's vomit-inducing escape from Shawshank Penitentiary. Not, by any stretch of the imagination, a sexy or arousing movie, but clearly the occupants of the large couch were not put off by Andy's silent retching on his long crawl to freedom.

The remnants of an Indian takeaway littered the coffee table, although the detritus had obviously, at some stage, been pushed to one side, leaving a curiously empty space on one side.

On the couch, her skin looking like white marble in the moonlight, Bella was breathing hard as she rode Edward's rigid shaft, her knees on the cushions either side of his thighs where he sat in the middle of the couch facing the TV, his orgasm powering through him just as he felt Bella clamp down on him convulsively and, somewhat alarmingly, as Warden Norton stuck his gun under his chin and blew the top of his head off.

_Jeez, that is so not the image I want to see when I'm cumming inside my wife_, Edward thought, burying his face in said wife's neck to avoid further trauma, even as she did the same. Placing wet, breathless kisses all over the skin he could reach, he smiled to himself at thoughts of Bella as _his wife._ It was still such a weird concept to him, yet he could no longer deny that he kind of liked it.

_My wife. Mrs Isabella Cullen. Mrs _Edward_ Cullen_.

He suddenly pulled his head from her neck, forcing her to follow suit. She frowned at the expression on his face.

"What? What's wrong, Edward?" she asked, putting one hand up to cup his cheek as he stared at her intently.

"Are you going to change your name?" he asked, his enquiry somewhere between curious and demanding.

Bella blinked, caught off guard and unprepared for Edward's question.

"Uh, I don't know," she said, in contrast to what she had told her friends earlier. "Do you _want_ me to change my name?" She chewed on her bottom lip, apprehensive about his answer.

_Please say yes._

He said nothing for a moment, a contemplative look on this face. Then he seemed to make up his mind.

"It's up to you, Bella, but it's probably not very practicable, what with school and the fact that we won't… you know…" he shook his head, realising the inappropriateness of talking about divorce when he was still inside her.

"We won't what?" she asked quietly.

He sighed, sliding his hands under her bottom and gently lifting her off him and moving her to sit next to him.

"Bella, we both know—"

"Ugh, I'm gonna make a mess on the sofa—I need to… you know, clean up."

She leapt up and practically ran from the room, not even bothering to grab her clothing, which was strewn haphazardly all around them.

Edward sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was all so wrong, he knew. Fucking her and then reminding her that this was not a real marriage. Yes, she was his wife, but surely Bella had no illusions about remaining married _'til death us do part'_—it was nonsense to suppose that either of them would want that… at least, he was sure Bella wouldn't. She would finish school this summer, go to college, meet boys her age and fall in and out of love until she found the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with—and that surely wouldn't be him.

Edward was surprised at the sensation which suddenly invaded his chest, robbing him of air and causing… _something_ to radiate out of his chest cavity and down into his abdomen.

_Fuck, what the hell—that… that fucking… hurts._

He pressed a palm over his heart, wondering for a moment if he was going into cardiac arrest, but then he caught sight of Bella walking slowly back into the room, wrapped in a short royal blue silk robe, and the pain—_or whatever the fuck that was_—immediately dissipated. He dropped his hand to his side and watched as she approached him, expecting her to sit back down beside him, but, much to his disappointment, she just stood to one side, looking down at him pensively, before bending to gather up her clothes.

"Bella?" he said quizzically, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

"Um, I'm, uh, really tired, Edward. I think I'm going to take a bath and go to bed." She straightened up, holding her discarded clothing tightly to her chest with both arms, not meeting his eyes.

"Okay," he responded quietly, suddenly aware of his nakedness. He leaned over to look for his boxer-briefs, spotting them under the coffee table. He grabbed them and sat up, preparing to put them on so he wouldn't feel quite so _exposed_ in front of Bella, but to his surprise he found he was all alone.

Pulling in a deep breath through his nose, he shook his head. Then he stood, pulling on his underwear and started clearing away the uneaten food and dirty dishes. In the kitchen, he disposed of the leftovers, then rinsed and put the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher. When everything was cleared away, he took a last look around, then turned off the lights and went to his room.

It wasn't until he opened the door and found the room empty that he realised he had been hoping that Bella would be using his bathtub before getting into bed with him. Again, he shook his head at his own stupidity and headed to the bathroom to prepare for bed.

Two hours later he lay in bed, wide awake, his head full of thoughts of Bella—what they had done earlier this evening, the events which had transpired in Las Vegas, especially those which had taken place in that king-size bed at The Flamingo, her wilfulness, her rebelliousness, her very annoying habit of running away and putting herself in danger—_did the girl have no sense of self-preservation?_—her beauty, her intelligence, her amazing tits, which bounced deliciously as she rode him…

_Ahh, fuck…_

Edward sat up in bed and reached over to turn the bedside lamp on.

This was ridiculous. He had spent two nights sharing a bed with Bella and now he was _missing her?_

He had to pull his shit together before he lost his fucking mind.

For a start, he needed to put a stop to the sex. He told himself he'd had his fill and there was no point going down that road again. He could no longer deny to himself that there was a strong attraction between them, but he tried to convince himself that it was no more than any man would feel if he had a hot and willing girl at his beck. But that's all it was—lust, pure and simple. And he could deal with that. He had lusted after women before, and no doubt he would lust after others in the future. It was just an itch that needed to be scratched and he could get anyone to scratch it. He had never had a problem bedding women…

Edward's inner diatribe stopped abruptly as he, once again, felt that… weird sensation in his chest, and he had to fight to pull in a wobbly breath.

_What the fuck?_

He thumped his head back against the headboard and squeezed his eyes shut.

_Look what that girl has done to me. I won't fall in love with her, I won't fall in love with her, I WILL NOT fall in love with her!_

And there it was—the idea, fully formed now in his thoughts, that he actually might fall in love with her. And that just could not happen.

Bella was seventeen years old. In a week, a month, a year maybe, if he was lucky, she would get over her adolescent crush and move on. She would meet a guy closer to her own age, and she would fall in love for real, and Edward knew that he would become just an inconvenience, an embarrassment to her. She would be desperate to extricate herself from their relationship, and how could he blame her. He was almost old enough to be her father.

He would not, of course, let her get involved with some loser, some gold-digging asshole, but if she met a nice boy who would love her and take care of her, then Edward would have to let her go—and if that thought brought him pain now, he could only imagine how much harder it would be if he allowed himself to get in any deeper with her than he already was.

Intimacy was the key. Without it, he was sure he would be able to maintain a platonic relationship, but if he let things go on the way they had been, he would be lost and she would break him. This, he knew.

Oh, she would likely rail against his withdrawal, both sexually and emotionally, but in the end, she would thank him. It would allow them to walk away from this situation relatively unscathed, and they would then both be able to move on and make new lives for themselves. Bella, especially, deserved that—to meet a man who would be able to share all her hopes and dreams, someone with whom she would have lots in common, a man who could give her children and a long and happy life together.

_That man isn't me… it can't ever be me. I don't do commitment. I don't do kids and happy families._

With his new resolve, Edward turned the light off and slid down under the covers, determined to get some rest. Indeed, so tired was he that sleep found him quickly.

But he did not pass a restful night, bad dreams plaguing him until the early morning light crept over him, causing him to be grateful for rousing him from his nightmares.

**~o0o~**

Edward wasn't the only one to pass a disturbed night.

After her bath, Bella had hoped she would be relaxed enough to sleep, but sadly she, too, had found it impossible to control her unquiet mind.

When Edward had come home earlier, he had practically attacked her, his hands and mouth everywhere until, naked and wanting, they had made love on the living room floor. Afterwards, Edward had ordered an Indian takeaway, which they had eaten, still naked, on the couch, until, unable to resist Bella anymore, Edward had cleared a space on the coffee table and then proceeded to bend her over it and slam into her from behind, fucking her hard and fast.

Finally, they had decided to watch a DVD, during which they had talked and laughed and drunk Indian lager and made love again, Bella straddling Edward's lap and sinking down on him, taking him deep within her and riding him, first gently, then harder, their combined cries of ecstasy reverberating round the room.

And then Edward had to fuck it all up.

Bella tossed and turned in her bed, going over and over what she'd known he was about to say.

'_It's up to you, Bella, but it's probably not very practicable, what with school and the fact that we won't…'_

He was going to say 'stay married' or words to that effect, she just knew it. And she had had to cut him off and stop him from saying the words aloud because once they were said, he couldn't take them back, and she couldn't bear it.

She knew he was going to leave her one day—he still thought of her as just a kid with a crush, and he would grow bored with her—but she wanted him for as long as she could have him.

She wanted to be _Mrs Cullen_.

But she supposed he was ashamed of having married her. He wasn't going to want to introduce her to anyone as his wife, and would probably not even acknowledge to others that he had a wife. When he had made love to her the night before… told her he was tired of staying away from her… she thought that maybe, just maybe, they had some kind of future together.

But, once again, he had dashed her hopes and she was distraught.

She wondered how many times Edward would break her heart before he finally broke her spirit. Would the pain be worth what little he was prepared to give her, she wondered? She thought about that old adage, 'it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,' and scoffed at the idea, because she truly believed that the pain of losing Edward might well destroy her.

Oh, she wasn't so melodramatic as to believe she would die of heartbreak—although she believed that it was possible—but she did think that it would render her incapable of ever finding love with another, or of living a fulfilling life. She would continue to breathe, to sustain herself physically, but a fundamental part of her would shrivel and die, of that she had no doubt.

She knew that many would deride the notion, telling her she was an overly emotional and silly teenager, who would grow out of this childish crush, but Bella knew, with an intractable and immovable certainty, that she was meant to be with Edward… that this was more than a transitory infatuation.

And with a wisdom beyond her years, she also knew that it was likely he would slip away from her, that she would lose him, and this understanding pierced her heart like a dagger. Once she was back at school, and then at university, Edward would be free to do whatever he wanted, and there was no shortage of women who would be there to keep him company, either in America or England. She would see him intermittently, when she took up her seat on the Board of Swan Publishing and was able to fit in meetings with her studies, perhaps the odd visit during holidays, but having finally got close to him after four years of growing detachment, she feared it would take little for them to return to those dark days.

As she tortured herself with endless negative scenarios, Bella's exhausted mind finally lapsed into sleep, but her subconscious continued to assault her with wretched dreams of abandonment and loneliness, until, like Edward, she was able to force herself awake to greet the new day.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Hugs and squidges to my beta, MauiGirl60, as well as the other members of my brilliant support team, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**Tuesday 12 April 2011**

By the time Bella emerged from her bedroom to get breakfast, Edward was already on his way out the door.

Pausing in the doorway as she headed towards the kitchen, he spoke up to get her attention.

"Bella. Sorry, I have to run, I've got an early meeting. Do you have homework to get on with?"

Bella turned and cast Edward a tired look.

"Yeah, don't worry, I've got stuff to keep me busy. What time will you be home?"

"Uh, I'm not sure… I might be late, so you should go ahead and eat dinner without me." He started to turn to leave.

"Oh, but…" Bella started to say.

He turned back to her, a look of irritation flickering across his face. "What is it, Bella, I'm going to be late."

Bella turned away, her shoulders slumping. "It doesn't matter, just go. I don't want to keep you," she told him over her shoulder.

Edward stood in the doorway and watched her walk away. He hated the look he'd seen on her face before she turned away. He hated lying to her about having to leave for a meeting, when, in reality, he was merely trying to remove himself from temptation.

He turned his head to look out into the hallway, and then back into the apartment. Making a decision, he stepped back in and closed the door behind him. Leaving his briefcase on the hall table, he went to the kitchen where he found Bella holding on to the far worktop, her back to him, just looking down—at what, he couldn't tell.

"Bella?" he called softly.

Bella's head came up and her shoulders stiffened, but she didn't turn around.

"I thought you were going to be late," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"They can start without me. What were you going to say?"

"Nothing, Edward. It's not important."

Edward sighed and slid his hand through his hair.

"Just tell me, Bella."

He watched as she took a big breath, before turning round to face him.

"I just wondered if we were going home for Easter," she said quietly.

He frowned. "To London, you mean?"

"No, to fucking Nether Wallop," she sneered sarcastically.

"What?"

"It's a town… in Hampshire." She sighed at his confused expression. "Just forget it. Yes, to London."

"Oh, um, right." Edward once again attacked his beleaguered hair. "I don't know, Bella, there's stuff going on here I need to deal with. Let me think about it and we'll talk later. Okay?"

Bella just looked at him for a moment before speaking. "You said you were going to be late."

"I'll be home before you go to bed." He looked at his watch. "I better go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, see you later."

He didn't miss the note of resignation in her voice but hardened himself against it and turned to leave. Just as he was about to exit the kitchen, he turned back to her, a puzzled expression on his face.

"There isn't really a place called Nether Wallop, is there?" he asked.

Bella couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah, but I'd rather go to Honey Knob Hill in Wiltshire… although I imagine you'd prefer Titty Ho in Northampton… or Twatt in Orkney." Despite her disappointment at Edward's returning detachment, she couldn't contain the giggle which bubbled up.

Her laughter was infectious and Edward couldn't help but laugh.

"You're making it up," he accused.

"Nuh-uh, you can Google that shit," she sniggered.

Edward shook his head, a grin plastered to his face.

"I'll see you tonight, B. Call if you need anything."

He left knowing that, once again, she had utterly disarmed him in a way no one had ever done in the past. In the car on the way to the office, all he could think about was turning around and going home to spend the rest of the day with Bella.

But that way madness lay and he forced himself to look at the papers in his case. When the car pulled up in front of the office, he was well aware that not one word of what was in front of him had sunk in.

**~o0o~**

Bella ate her breakfast and got started on the day's assignments which had been emailed while she was still in bed. After that, she went through her emails and Facebook updates. Jess had uploaded a picture of her and Lauren and some of the other girls at school pulling faces and being silly, causing her to feel a pang of envy and homesickness which threatened to overwhelm her.

Forcing away the melancholy which started to settle over her, she closed her laptop and set about doing laundry and cleaning up the apartment. She knew Edward had a cleaner, who came in on Thursdays, but she needed to fill her time and stop thinking about what was happening between the two of them. She ended up changing the beds, dusting and vacuuming the whole apartment, cleaning out the kitchen cupboards and drawers, taking down curtains to wash them, ironing practically everything that wasn't nailed down, then getting down on her hands and knees and polishing the floors.

In this way, she was barely aware of the time passing, so when Edward got home just after 7.00PM, he found Bella on all fours, her beautiful ass in the air, as she scrubbed at a small stain on the rug under the coffee table.

An involuntary groan escaped him and Bella's head shot up, connecting audibly with the underside of the table, making her cry out in pain.

"Ow, you _fucker!"_

"Shit, B, are you okay?" Edward called out, dropping his case and rushing over to her.

Bella turned on her knees and looked at him, grimacing as she rubbed her head. Edward dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her hand away, replacing it with his fingers as he felt for the large bump forming on her scalp.

"Ouch… bloody hell, Edward, not satisfied with making me kak my pants and bang my head, now you want to prod it around just to make sure it really hurts?"

Edward chuckled at her grouchy response to his ministrations.

"Oh, and now you're laughing at my pain? You are such a git, Edward!"

Edward pulled his fingers away after what was probably an unnecessarily protracted examination of her injury. Sitting back on his heels, he grinned at her.

"Sorry, B. You've got a hell of a bump, but I think you'll live." He smirked at her, earning him a stony look, which just made him laugh out loud.

That was it. Bella smacked him on the arm and then pushed against his chest. Caught unawares by her attack, Edward toppled over backwards and Bella immediately straddled his hips and started pummelling him. Edward grabbed her wrists and flipped her onto her back with ease, holding her arms above her head as he hovered above her.

For a moment, all that could be heard was their accelerated breathing, the air around them suddenly charged with a crackling sexual tension as their eyes locked.

_Kiss me, Edward, please, please, please kiss me._

_Ahh jeez, not another fucking hard-on! What are you doing to me, Bella?_

They stared at one another for the longest minute… before Edward found the strength and the iron will to pull away and stand up. Bella closed her eyes, letting out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. After a moment, she opened her eyes again, to see Edward standing over her, holding his hand out. Sighing she reached up and took it, and in one swift movement he pulled her to her feet.

She went to walk away, but he refused to let go of her hand, so that she was forced to stop and look back at him.

"Bella, we should talk," he said when she didn't say anything.

She grimaced. "Nothing good ever comes of us _talking_, Edward, surely you've learned that by now?"

Edward sighed and pulled her closer. She thought perhaps he was going to put his arms around her, but instead he put one hand on her waist and swivelled her around so he could push her down on the sofa. He then slipped off his jacket and tossed it over the back before joining her, although he made sure to position himself at the opposite end.

Bella leaned against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, not wanting to look at him. She sensed, rather than saw him turn sideways on to face her.

"Bella… Bella, look at me, please."

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and turned her head to look in his direction, her gaze fixed on a point just over his left shoulder.

Edward sucked in a deep breath and looked down at an invisible speck on the cushion in front of him which he seemed determined to scrape off with his fingernail.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Bella look away again and stare at the blank TV screen. Shaking his head at himself, he looked back up at her.

"Bella, I owe you an apology."

She turned her head quickly and gazed at him quizzically. This was not what she was expecting.

Edward avoided her eyes, transferring his attention back to the cushion.

"I should never have let things go as far as they have."

He glanced up, to see Bella return her gaze to the TV.

"I'm sorry, B, it was never my intention to take advantage—"

"Who said you took advantage—do you think I didn't want it?" she asked, more sharply than she intended, still without looking at him.

Edward ran his hands through his hair, frustration and discomfort clear on his face.

"Oh, B, whether you wanted it or not, you're seventeen and I'm thirty-one, and it shouldn't have happened."

"But… we're married," she whispered, finally meeting his gaze.

"I know, and that's just one more fucked up thing I've done since I brought you home from school," he sighed.

Bella turned her head completely away from him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in the hope of stemming the tide of tears. She took in a shaky breath but remained silent.

Edward felt utterly helpless as he watched her struggle to keep from breaking down. The only thing which stopped him gathering her up in his arms and telling her he didn't mean any of it was the belief that what he was doing was for her own good—that, ultimately, he was protecting her, as he'd promised Charlie and Renee he would, and that she would thank him eventually.

"Bella, please… don't cry. This is for the best, you'll see. We don't need to complicate things, and it's not like we'll be married forever, just until you're twenty-one, and then you'll be free to follow your own path, including remarrying—even if he's an asshole."

Edward forced a chuckle to try and lighten the moment, but clearly Bella didn't find his comment funny—and, if he was honest, neither did he. Just the idea of Bella remarrying—regardless of any prospective suitor's level of assholeness—prompted the immediate return of that unsettling and unwelcome chest pain.

"Bella? Hey, come on, B, it's not the end of the world."

No longer able to deny the overpowering urge he had to touch her… _somehow_… he reached out and took her hand where it lay in her lap and pulled it towards him so that their joined hands now lay equidistant between them. The gesture finally caused Bella to look around at Edward, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Oh, Bella," he sighed, squeezing her hand gently.

She shook her head and transferred her attention to the wall in front of her again.

"Do… do you…" She took a couple of deep breaths, desperately trying to steady her voice.

_I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry._

"Do you… care about me at _all_, Edward?" she said tremulously.

Edward frowned at the impossible girl beside him.

"Jesus, Bella, of course I do. You're my best friend's daughter, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. You'll understand when you're older. Teenagers get crushes all the ti—"

Bella's head whipped around and she yanked her hand from his. Her eyes were no longer sad—they were furious.

"Don't fucking patronise me, Edward. All you ever talk about is your promise to Mum and Dad, like I'm some tiresome inconvenience, like a dog you didn't want that you now have to take for walks. I'm your _fucking WIFE!_"

"Bell—"

But Bella had had enough, leaping to her feet and rounding on Edward, hands clenched into fists at her side.

"Fuck you, Edward Cullen."

She turned to leave but Edward was quicker, jumping up and grabbing her by the elbow so that she was forced to turn and look at him.

"Christ, Bella, you can't seriously think that this marriage has any validity outside of the legality of it. It's a means to an end, that's all. I can't do the happy families thing with you. You knew the deal going in. You got your consummation, and I got my peace of mind."

Edward regretted his words the moment they came out of his mouth—even before he heard Bella's shocked gasp and saw the pain and defeat in her eyes.

"Bella, I—"

"Forget it, Edward. You win, okay? I'm done… I am so fucking done with this bollocks." Her voice was dull, all emotion drained from the words.

She pulled her arm from his grasp and walked away. She stopped and turned before rounding the corner to her room, and for a moment Edward thought she was going to give him a chance to apologise. His hopes were dashed by her next words, spoken in a tired monotone.

"Don't worry, I won't run away. Where would I go? I have no one, Edward, just you, and hey, waddya know, turns out you don't want me. But I'll stay. And I'll do my homework, and I'll be your good little girl… you'll hardly know I'm here. Then in May I'll go back to school and I'll tell Mrs Banner everything is cool. I'll buckle down and study and get good grades and go to university and be a model student… and you can forget I was ever a part of your life.

"So you can relax. I'm sure you're right and I'll get over my foolish crush, because that's what teenagers do. I won't trouble you again on that score."

She lifted her gaze from the floor and looked at him, a steely glint entering her eyes.

"But just remember—Swan Publishing is mine, and I _will_ be taking an active role."

Edward just stood by the couch, his eyes glued to hers. This was it, he'd finally fucked up… big time. Not only had he destroyed any romantic feelings she might have for him, but he had killed their friendship.

And the pain was… _indescribable_.

Nothing in his life—not his mother's desertion, his father's rejection or even Charlie and Renee's deaths—had prepared him for the level of pain he felt. It was like his chest was folding in on itself and crushing his heart like a jackhammer.

As Bella turned for the final time and left him alone, he felt his knees give way and he crumpled to the floor.

_No no no no no no no no no no no no!_

What had he done? This was _so_ not the way he had expected things to go.

He had expected Bella to be sad and sulky, maybe even angry. What he didn't expect was the utter defeat… that horrible retreat into herself.

Neither did he expect to feel like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

He had no idea how long he stayed on the floor. He felt almost afraid to pull himself up, because it seemed like his legs couldn't possibly work when he felt like he'd been disembowelled. Eventually, however, he knew he had to move, and, using the sofa to pull himself up, he made his way unsteadily to bed.

He paused outside Bella's door, and even went so far as to press his ear to it, but all was silent. He resisted the urge to go in, to climb into bed with her, to wrap himself around her and never let her go. Reluctantly, he turned away and went to his own room, where he knew sleep would evade him and, even if it didn't, he suspected there would be no rest for him this night… or any other that he spent without Bella beside him.

**~o0o~**

In her room, Bella listened as Edward lingered outside, praying that he had changed his mind, that he would open the door and tell her he was sorry. He wouldn't have to beg for forgiveness, she would give it freely, willingly… unquestioningly.

But he didn't come in. After a long moment, during which she thought he must already have silently departed, she heard a soft, brushing noise against the door and what sounded like a heavy breath being released, and then leaden footsteps walked away, leaving her alone, and cripplingly lonely.

She turned her face into the pillow to muffle her sobs, and cried until she felt drained of… _everything_—emotion, happiness, self-esteem, ambition… _life_.

If only he had told her that he cared for her—that what happened to her mattered to him. And not just because of some stupid promise he'd made to her parents. She could have borne it if he'd given her even the smallest bit of hope that he felt more for her than just a burden to be tolerated.

How could he do the things he'd done to her following that tacky marriage ceremony without feeling _something_. Tonight he'd made her feel more like a whore than any of the hormone-driven men of the last six months.

Was she just a hole to stick his cock in?

The crudity of that thought matched the feeling of utter worthlessness that threatened to swamp her. In little over twenty minutes, Edward had effectively—and efficiently—robbed her of every atom of self-esteem she had ever possessed and she felt hollow… and so, so stupid.

Stupid, naïve Bella.

_I'm doubly stupid, because I love him, and I can't seem to make myself stop loving him._

Her tears flowed anew, her sobs wrenching her stomach and her throat, until, exhausted, she fell into a restless and troubled sleep.

**~o0o~**

Daylight brought an unwelcome and savage reality to both Edward and Bella.

As he dragged himself through his morning routine, Edward dreaded, in equal measure, both seeing Bella and not seeing her. He had no idea what he was going to say to her after the events of the previous night, but the thought of leaving for the day without seeing her at all made him feel anxious and needy.

In any event, his concerns were moot. He didn't see her.

Bella remained in her room while he was in the kitchen, and when he tentatively knocked on her door to tell her he was leaving, all he got in response was a dull and muffled "Yeah, 'bye."

He was tempted just to go in and make her talk to him, but reason prevailed and he knew it was probably best to leave her be, at least for today. So he retrieved his jacket and briefcase from the living room and left for the office.

**~o0o~**

Later in the morning, Bella got up and made herself breakfast, forcing down some tea and toast, which tasted like dishwater and cardboard to her jaded palette. She then retrieved her laptop from her room and set herself up at the dining table, preparing to quickly check her emails and Facebook news feed, before buckling down to some work.

Clicking to open her Gmail inbox she quickly glanced through the messages which had arrived while she slept, most being Facebook alerts. Most… but not all.

She felt her heart stutter and then restart as one message amongst the 20 others caught her eye. After several minutes' hesitation, Bella slowly moved the mouse and clicked on the subject:

**Sorry**

The screen went blank for a moment and then the message opened up.

**From: Edward Cullen  
Sent: Tuesday April 12, 2011 08:17  
To: Isabella Swan  
Subject: Sorry**

Bella

Where do I even start? Last night was a complete car crash, and I have no idea how I managed to get it so wrong. I have never wanted anything more than I want your happiness and the fact that I seem to have achieved the complete opposite weighs heavily upon me. The truth is that I can't be what you want me to be. I will only ever hurt you and I refuse to be that person anymore. Undoubtedly, I let things go too far for my own selfish gratification, and I can only beg your forgiveness for betraying not just your trust but also the trust placed in me by Charlie and Renee. I know you think I care more about my promise to them than I do about you, but for me the two go hand in hand.

I want to make things right between us, B – I know I'm a prize idiot, but please tell me I haven't ruined everything by my crass and thoughtless behaviour.

Yours  
Edward

**Edward A Cullen  
CEO – Swan Publishing Inc**

Bella stared at the screen for several minutes, her mind in turmoil. She read the email again… and then for a third time.

After the fourth time of reading, she got up and made herself a cup of tea, leaning against the kitchen counter while she drank it and thought about what Edward had written.

The fact that he'd written at all was something she was having a hard time understanding.

_Jeez, if we can't even talk about this stuff, he's right, there's nothing here for either of us._

She swallowed the last of her tea and walked slowly back to her laptop, sitting atop the dining table. For a moment, she looked at it as if it might be booby-trapped, before sighing at her own prevarication. Making a decision, she squared her shoulders, sat down and started to type.

**From: Bella Swan  
****Sent: Tuesday 12 April 2011 11:47  
****To: Edward Cullen  
****Subject: RE: Sorry**

Edward

I was pretty surprised to get your email, as I thought we'd settled everything last night. Much as I hate to admit it, you're right, and I feel like I must have been on hallucinogenic drugs for the last few days and am only now coming to my senses.

Hey, it was fun while it lasted, and at least I had an experienced man to pop my cherry LOL! Just like that old song – 'You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to, let's call the whole thing off' – we probably should call time on this whole ridiculous fiasco.

Like I said last night, I'm not going to throw another wobbler and run amok. I just want to get back to school and pass my A-levels so I can get into a decent uni – hopefully Cambridge – (I've already applied to Magdalene – amongst others – to read politics and economics). So that means I'm going to be really busy with my studies next term and I won't have time for a lot of socialising and the like – I've defo learned my lesson there!

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it's all cool – we're cool – and let's just forget any of that stuff ever happened. It's past, it's done, I am sooo over it, so don't get your knickers in a twist.

Friends, yeah? Gotta go, see you later.

Bella

Bella watched, in some surprise, as a big, fat drop of water fell on the keys of her laptop, and she peered at it for a moment in confusion. Putting her hand up to her face, she finally realised she was weeping—giving the lie to the jaunty tone of her email—and dashed the tears away angrily.

Not bothering to read what she had written, she swept the cursor aggressively up to the 'Send' button and clicked.

Then she slammed the lid down and jumped up from the table. Five minutes later, the apartment door banged closed behind her as she headed out.

She spent the next four hours wandering around. She went into town and window-shopped—not interested enough to buy anything—then bought a coffee and bagel which she consumed on a bench in Central Park. A few weirdoes and homeless people approached her, but were so intimidated by the hostile vibe she was giving off that they quickly left her alone. At about 4pm she made her way home, stopping to buy some food at the small grocery store round the corner from the apartment.

Once indoors, she forced herself to compartmentalise the pain which seemed to invade every atom of her body, and concentrated on her homework.

She ignored her inbox.

**~o0o~**

Edward sat at his desk and re-read Bella's email. He had been distracted all morning, waiting for her reply, wondering if she would be angry or sad, maybe even distraught. Would he have to go home to comfort her, placate her, try to persuade her this was all for the best?

What he didn't expect was a cheery missive which even made a jokey reference to their first night together when he had taken her virginity. And when he reached the words 'ridiculous fiasco' he cringed, just as he had the first time he'd read them.

_She's over it? What the fuck does that mean?_

Pain had lanced through him when he'd read that last bit, but he told himself this was what he wanted—for Bella to move on and be happy. And she seemed serious about her school work and college. He told himself he was comforted by her new sensible and reasonable attitude, that this was in everyone's best interests.

Yeah, he was really over the moon.

When he finally decided to respond he discovered that his hands were shaking so much he could barely type. So he called his CFO, Mike Newton, and suggested they talk about the latest developments with the mystery shareholder over lunch, which Mike quickly agreed to, as he was pretty certain he had some interesting news for Edward.

**~o0o~**

An hour and a half later, Edward returned to his office following his discussions with Mike; the first thing that greeted him was Bella's email, and he made the decision just to answer it and get on.

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Tuesday April 12, 2011 14:02  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: RE: Sorry**

Bella

I'm so glad that you're not unduly upset and that you are taking such a grown up attitude to all this, although that doesn't stop me being sorry for my harsh and inappropriate words. But I'm very proud of you, and I know, if you are truly able to put all this behind you, that you will go on to great success, not only in your scholastic life, but personally and professionally too. I know your mom and dad would be equally proud of you, and even if you don't get into Magdalene – and quite honestly, I think they'd be crazy not to offer you a place – wherever you go, I don't doubt you will make a success of your life.

I can't tell you how happy I am that you've managed to get past the events of the last few months, and, more importantly, that you and I are still friends. Please know that I will always be your friend, Bella, until I draw my last breath.

I'll see you this evening.

Yours

Edward

**Edward A Cullen  
CEO – Swan Publishing Inc**

**~o0o~**

Sitting alone in Edward's apartment, staring at her laptop screen, Bella let the tears fall.

_So, that's that, then._

She turned off the computer, got up and went to her room, where she stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, despite the early hour. Picking up her phone from the bedside table she sent a quick text.

***Dont feel well, bit fluey, going to bed so maybe wont be up when u get home.**  
**Theres spag bol in the fridge***

She pressed 'Send', turned the phone off and tossed it on the cabinet, then opened the drawer and reached inside. Pulling back she sat up in bed and looked at the small, orange, plastic bottle in her hand. The pharmacy label read: 'MS TANYA DENALI – Ambien 5mg. 1-2 tablets to be taken before bed. Do not exceed the recommended dose'.

Bella had found them earlier in Edward's bathroom cabinet when she'd been looking for headache pills. There were about ten tablets left in the bottle and she decided to take one now so that she would definitely be asleep when Edward got in, and that it would hopefully be a dream-free slumber. She didn't think Edward would miss the pills—there had been dust on the lid and they were shoved right to the back, which was probably why Tanya had forgotten them. But then again, the last time Edward was in New York, Tanya probably couldn't conceive that she wouldn't be visiting him here again.

Bella shook out a pill, put it in her mouth and washed it down with the glass of water she'd brought with her.

Twenty minutes later she was in a deep sleep, from which she didn't wake until after Edward had left the following morning, so she was wholly unaware of his presence in her room that night as he watched her sleep for several hours, his head too full of random thoughts to allow him rest… one such thought being that he wished Tanya had left some of her sleeping pills behind.

* * *

**END NOTES:**

Just for those who might not know, Magdalene College, Cambridge, is pronounced Maudlin. Yeah, I know, we Brits are weird about pronunciation. Also, one 'reads' a subject at a British university, as opposed to 'studying' it. As for the daft place names, they are totally real – as Bella remarks, you can Google that shit.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

MauiGirl60 did her usual brilliant beta job with this chapter, for which I thank her muchly; I am endlessly grateful for her on-going and staunch support. The same holds true for Cared and Midnight Cougar – you rock, ladies. You know who else rocks? You, my fab readers.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

**Wednesday 13 – Thursday 21 April 2011**

The days following were weird. They should have been strained and difficult, but Bella was so relentlessly cheerful and seemingly untroubled, that Edward was left with an odd combination of emotions, being both relieved and saddened by her blithe demeanour.

For her part, Bella felt exhausted by how much effort she had to put into presenting a nonchalant façade to Edward, and she wondered if the growing numbness, which seemed to be a necessary by-product of her forced joviality, would remain with her forever. Maybe, with each false smile and carefree chuckle, small pieces of her heart were dying and breaking off, bit by bit. The longer she maintained this awful pretence, the more damage she would do, until all that remained would be a petrified fossil of a heart, incapable of ever feeling anything again.

So it was with mixed feelings that she received Edward's offer on the Wednesday evening before Easter.

He had come home early, surprising her when he walked through the door just after 5pm. She was sitting on one of the sofas, leaning against one of the armrests with her legs stretched out along the cushions and her laptop perched across her thighs. She was really concentrating on whatever she was looking at on the screen, and as Edward approached she didn't even register his presence until he was leaning against the back of the sofa looking down at her. Her shriek of surprise made him laugh, which, in turn, made her scowl at him.

"Bloody hell, Edward, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I'm beginning to think it's your mission in life," she grumbled, setting her laptop on the coffee table and swinging her legs off the couch.

"Sorry, B, I didn't mean to scare you, but you were so utterly engrossed in whatever you were looking at, I probably could have run into the room buck-naked, singing 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' and you still wouldn't have noticed," he laughed.

Bella quirked an eyebrow at him over her shoulder, but decided not to be drawn.

_Is he being deliberately provocative, or does he genuinely not know what he just said?_

Edward regarded her evenly, wondering if she would rise to the bait, but she merely looked away, focussing once again on her laptop.

"You're early—are you here to give me another bollocking?" She didn't look at him as he walked around the sofa and sat down next to her.

"Why? Did you do something that requires me to give you a _bollocking?_"

Bella sat back, then swivelled around, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged so she was facing him.

"Not that I'm aware of. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company at…" she glanced down at her wristwatch, "… ten past five?" She looked back up at him expectantly, resolutely quashing her desire to reach out and touch him.

Edward leaned forward and slipped his suit jacket off, tossing it over the back of the sofa and then turning to mirror her position, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I wondered how you felt about flying to London tomorrow?" he said, his mouth settling into an oddly sad smile.

Bella's eyes widened. "Really? You mean it?"

He nodded.

Bella squealed and, without thinking about it, reared up on her knees and launched herself at him, throwing her arms round his neck and hugging him tightly.

Edward instinctively went to hug her back, but forced himself to resist the temptation of having her in his arms, even for just a moment, as he was very much afraid he wouldn't want to let her go again. He felt like an alcoholic, for whom one taste, one lapse would send him spiralling back down into helpless and self-destructive addiction. He let his arms drop back to his sides, clenching his fists to stop himself from touching her.

Bella felt him become stiff and unresponsive and quickly pulled away, desperately trying to mask the hurt and disappointment she felt at Edward's continued rejection.

"Okay, so what time's our flight?" she asked, trying to inject some of her original excitement back into her voice.

"Um, well, tomorrow afternoon… and it's… just you. I'll be staying here."

Bella frowned, her confusion obvious.

"What do you mean, you're staying here?"

"I have work to do—"

"But can't you do it in London?" she interrupted, a note of desperation in her voice. If they parted now, putting an entire ocean between them, she feared that any chance they might have of finding a way back to one another would surely be lost forever.

Edward sighed, burying his hands in his hair and staring at the cushion between them.

"I can't, Bella. I… I need to stay here."

"Then I'll stay… I don't really care about going home. I want to stay in New York—"

"Bella, I've spoken to Lydia Carrington-Stanley, and she says you can stay with them for the Easter vacation. I've bought your ticket and you're booked on the 15.30 BA flight to Heathrow tomorrow—she and Jessica will meet you. It's all arranged. Besides, I thought you were all planning to go skiing."

Bella stared at him, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth as she bit down on it. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed for Edward not to pull it free and then suck it into his own mouth.

"You rang Jess's mum?"

"Yes, I don't really know Lady Mallory well enough to just call her out of the blue." He smiled as an amusing thought seem to strike him. "And quite honestly, Lauren is a bit Looney Tunes, if you ask me… sort of proof of the inbreeding that goes on in the British aristocracy."

He chuckled, but Bella was clearly unamused.

"You rang Jess's _mother?_ What the hell, Edward? You arranged all this without saying a bloody word to me?"

Edward swayed back slightly, taken aback by Bella's livid tone.

"But… you said you wanted to go home!" he said.

Bella closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest, shaking her head as she did.

"Bella, I'm not a mind-reader," Edward said in exasperation. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

With a sigh, Bella looked back up at him. "It's fine, Edward, forget it. I'll go. There, problem solved, I'll be out of your hair and you can get on with your life."

She got up and went to walk away, but Edward lurched forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

"Jesus, Bella, I can't seem to do right for doing wrong. I'm so tired of you just walking away from me because you think I've fucked up. I thought we were cool. I thought we'd got past… everything." He looked up at her, his eyes full of a silent plea.

Bella glanced down at his hand holding on to hers and back up to his beautiful, sad green eyes.

"Me too, Edward. I just…" She took a big breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. "I'm sorry, just ignore me. I'm a teenager, I don't know what I want. It's okay, you did a nice thing, you just… I just wish you'd talked to me about it first."

She pulled her hand from his. From somewhere she dragged a smile and pinned it to her face.

"Hey, if I'm going home tomorrow, I need to start packing."

"Oh, you've got all morning to do that. The other reason I came home early was so we could go out for a bite to eat before you leave—you'll be going straight back to school on May 3rd, so we won't get another chance. What do you say to Luigi's?"

Bella reckoned she would choke on any kind of food right now, and the thought of spending the evening sitting opposite Edward in his local Italian restaurant, making small talk and pretending to enjoy herself, might well make her lose her mind.

But she said none of this, just smiled and nodded. "Okay, super idea, I'd like that," she told him, before finally managing to escape to her room.

**~o0o~**

A little over an hour later, Bella emerged from her room, never so grateful for the brilliance of her YSL Touche Eclat, which had done a brilliant job of concealing the fact that she had spent much of the time crying.

When she had stopped crying, she decided that if this was the last date—if she could call it that—she would ever go on with Edward, she was going to make sure he knew what he would be missing when she was gone.

On the face of it, the long-sleeved purple dress she opted for was fairly understated, not too low-cut, with a draped neck. However, the dress was in a soft jersey fabric which clung to every curve and ended mid-thigh. She wore a pair of black high heeled pumps, matched with a small black bag which dangled over her shoulder. She had partially put her hair up, just leaving long, soft tendrils to frame her face, which she had made up with smoky eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner to make her eyes look huge, a touch of blusher to highlight her cheekbones and deep purple lipstick which exactly matched her dress.

The moment Edward turned to see her walk across the room he groaned internally, as all he could think about was kissing those plump, succulent lips, biting down on the bottom one, like a ripe, juicy plum. Tearing his eyes from her mouth, he was incapable of stopping them wander straight to her breasts and lingering there for a moment, before slowly sliding down the rest of her body and then back up.

_Oh fuck, is she wearing any underwear… at all?_

Bella didn't miss the intensity of his perusal and found herself hoping the dark material of her dress concealed the immediate affect his inspection had on her traitorous nipples. In that hope, she would be disappointed.

Edward noticed.

"I hope you've got something to wear over that," he said tersely.

"Um, yeah, I suppose," she replied, cursing the blush which crept across her cheeks. She turned and went back to her room to find something to satisfy Edward's apparently Victorian idea of modesty. The weather outside was balmy and she didn't want to put a coat on, so grabbed a black cashmere pashmina and draped it around her shoulders, effectively covering her upper body.

When she rejoined him in the living room he frowned a little at the fact that she was still displaying too much of her gorgeous legs, which seemed endless in the three inch heels she was wearing, but decided to say nothing. He wondered if she was being deliberately provocative, or whether she really didn't understand the effect she had on him.

Shaking his head, he picked up his jacket and put it on.

"Okay, let's go."

When they walked into Luigi's, it was busy, as always, and just about every head turned to look at them. The owner greeted them effusively and led them to a table near the back, as Edward had requested.

Edward was used to being ogled by women, it had been happening since he was a teenager. What he wasn't used to was the outright lust which the men directed at his companion. Of course, he had always had beautiful women on his arm, and undoubtedly men had looked at them with desire, but he couldn't ever remember feeling so… furious… possessive… _murderous_ at the attention.

He glared at the assembled diners, unthinkingly slipping his arm around Bella's waist in an unconscious display of possession.

_She's mine, fuckers._

The thought came unbidden and he inwardly cringed, knowing that it could never be true.

Fortunately, they were soon seated and he could relax a little, although as soon as Bella removed her pashmina, he was presented with the sight of her luscious décolletage, which he had to spend the entire meal trying to avoid staring at.

Of course, that meant he also had to spend the entire meal trying to ignore the uncomfortable situation in his trousers.

Thus it was that conversation, at first, was stilted and awkward, both of them hyper-aware of the effect that the other was having on them. But as the meal progressed, the fruity Italian wine began to slough the edges off their self-consciousness. They became more at ease with one another, once again falling into the comfortable to and fro of the interplay they had always been able to find between them when they let go of all the negative aspects of their relationship. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the minefield of their feelings and Bella's imminent departure, and talked about music, art, books, movies and the like, finding both common ground and points of divergence upon which to tease one another.

"Are you honestly trying to tell me that 'Shawshank Redemption' is a better movie than 'Birdman of Alcatraz'?" Edward asked with exaggerated incredulity.

"Oh, come on, it's way better. But I suppose you prefer all those black and white films of your long-ago youth, so I don't know why I'm surprised. You probably went to see 'Birdman' at the cinema when it came out," she teased, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

"You cheeky minx, I was born in 1980, for Christ's sake, not 1930," he protested, cross with himself that he let her bait him so successfully.

Bella giggled at his scowl, taking another sip of her wine. "Now don't be grouchy, Edward—it's probably not good for your blood pressure at your age." She snorted at her own joke, stabbing another mussel from her seafood pasta dish and popping it in her mouth.

"Ummm, this is sooo scrummy," she cooed, closing her eyes as she chewed.

Edward's scowl turned to a look of pain as he listened to her moans of pleasure over the food she was eating and he had to mask it by taking a big pull from his drink.

"How about you… is it good?"

Edward looked up from his food in surprise. "What?"

"Your steak… is it good?" Bella clarified, giving him a puzzled look.

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's great."

Edward gave himself an internal pep talk, and they continued with their meal, although by the end of it, he was very aware that he'd probably drunk too much wine, too quickly.

When they left, and Edward had imagined stabbing every man in the heart who looked at his girl, they strolled in companionable silence the short distance back to the apartment. Bella had wrapped both her arms around one of his and he couldn't bring himself to pull away, wanting to enjoy these last few moments of having her so close.

All too soon they were home, and Bella went to her room to change, slipping into her soft, clingy pyjamas and removing her make-up.

Sighing, she then got out her suitcase and started packing, making sure to gather up everything, because she seriously doubted she would ever return. Of course, she now had a lot more stuff than when she arrived and quickly realised that, with the wine she had consumed, the task was too much to achieve before bed.

Going in search of Edward, she found him in the kitchen, dressed in black sleep pants and a t shirt, which, with his wild hair, made him look inhumanly sexy. He was sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping from a tumbler containing a couple of fingers of amber liquid, looking contemplative and a little morose.

"Hey, Edward… um, I don't suppose you have a suitcase I can nick, do you?"

Edward stared into his drink for a moment before turning his head to look at her. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her as he took in the thin pyjama pants which sat low on her hips and the tiny, matching, _skin-tight_ tank-top with spaghetti straps and low, lacy neckline, which didn't even come close to meeting the top of the pants, thus leaving a wide expanse of her creamy midriff on display.

He ruminated on the fact that, despite her seeming to have spent a small fortune on underwear since she'd arrived in New York, there was a singular lack of evidence that she ever wore any of the fucking stuff.

Bella tilted her head to one side, frowning in confusion at what she interpreted as the annoyed look Edward was giving her.

"Er… if you can't spare one, it's okay, I'll just have to put the rest of my stuff in a box for you to Fed-Ex."

Edward tore his eyes away from her and stared ahead of him, taking another sip of his drink before he replied.

"It's fine, I'll get you one," he said tightly, slipping off the bar seat and walking past her, his arm brushing hers and making his skin tingle.

In his room, he opened the closet and pulled out a large suitcase. Turning, he grunted in surprise when he came up against a warm, soft body—Bella had clearly followed him, and was standing right behind him.

A soft gasp, and she looked up at him in surprise. "Sorry, I…"

Edward didn't let her finish whatever she was going to say, he simply dropped the suitcase and wound one arm around her waist, burying the other in the thick hair at the back of her head, crashing his lips to hers.

Bella's momentary shock fell away as she felt his tongue invade her open mouth and all she could do was moan as she slid her hands into the hair at the back of his neck and wrapped one leg around his to pull him closer.

Edward's hand dropped from her waist and gripped her thigh, pulling it higher and grinding his rigid cock against her volcanic heat. He groaned, feeling an urgency and a desire which he'd never before experienced.

In one swift movement which left her breathless, he swivelled them around and slammed her against the wall, his mouth devouring her. When air became a necessity, he moved his lips down her jaw and to her neck, at the same time pushing her arms above her head. He pulled back slightly so he could hook his fingers under her top and push it up and off. He then transferred his attention to her breasts, sucking first one and the other pert nipple into his mouth.

Bella's loud gasp of pleasure did nothing to cool his ardour, and before she could even fully take in what was happening, he had dropped down to his knees, pulling down her pyjama bottoms as he descended and lifting her feet so he could toss them aside.

From this vantage point, he could see clearly the symbol etched in black ink, which stood out against her pale, creamy skin.

Except it wasn't a symbol.

It was a letter, inscribed in an elegant, old-fashioned script… a capital E.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze.

"Bella…?"

"E… for Edward," she breathed.

He looked back at it, lifting a hand and tracing the tattoo lightly with his index finger.

Bella's breath caught in her throat and she sighed, bringing Edward's eyes back to hers. The next moment he was on his feet, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs and capturing her round, firm bottom, pulling her so that she automatically swung her legs up and around his waist.

Edward knew he could no more wait to be inside her than a six-year-old could wait for Christmas. He dipped his hand into his sleep pants and took hold of himself, releasing his tumescent shaft from the loose confines of the material and sliding the head against Bella's drenched opening.

Without another moment's hesitation, he thrust up and into her, at the same time gripping her hips and pulling her down on him, making them both cry out.

Immediately, he set up a relentless pace, as Bella threw her arms around his shoulders and hung on for dear life. Every moan, every gasp seemed to spur him to greater effort as he worked to wring an orgasm from her. This wasn't going to take long, and he needed to feel her cum.

"God, yes, Edward, yes, harder, please… oh, fucking _hell_!" she screamed as she felt herself tighten around him, the pleasure blooming in her abdomen and radiating out to her feet and hands, her toes curling and her fingernails biting into his back through his t-shirt.

"Fuck, baby… so… good… cum for me… _yesss,_" he groaned as he felt his inevitable orgasm pulse through him and into her, her muscles flexing deliciously around him.

Bella opened her mouth in a silent gasp, unable to draw breath or articulate any sound at all. She jerked and twitched as he continued to thrust erratically inside her until, exhausted and spent, her legs fell away from him and his softening cock slipped out of her as he wrapped his arms around her to stop her from collapsing.

He buried his head in her neck, breathing through his mouth against her skin, his heart beating wildly as Bella pressed her cheek against his chest and circled his waist with her arms. In this way, they stood for several minutes until their breathing had regulated. Then, wordlessly, Edward pulled away, slipping one arm round her back and the other behind her legs to pick her up, walking to the bed and lowering her gently on to it. Without hesitation, Bella pulled the covers from beneath her and slid under them. A moment later, the light went out and she felt the mattress depress and then Edward was climbing in beside her. He encouraged her to roll over and then pulled her back against him, spooning her, and she smiled tiredly to herself when she realised he was naked. He put his arms around her and she covered them with her own, holding him tightly to her.

"Sleep now, beautiful girl," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. And although she wanted to stay awake, to experience this wonderful feeling of having Edward back when she thought she was about to lose him, sleep did, indeed, claim her more quickly than she would have wished.

**~o0o~  
**

Edward was dreaming, soft whimpers escaping him as he revelled in the amazing feeling that was building up inside him.

_He looked down to where Bella knelt on the ground in front of him, her cherry-stained lips wrapped around his swollen cock, her eyes fixed on his as she took him deep and then drew slowly back. He hissed with pleasure, momentarily breaking away from her gaze to look around him. _

_They seemed to be in the middle of a meadow, a soft, warm breeze rippling the long grass, which was liberally interspersed with white and purple wildflowers. A large, white porcelain bowl, filled with fat, ripe cherries, sat on the ground beside Bella, and the vague thought passed through his mind that it was foolish to bring such a large, fragile piece of crockery to a field._

_Edward felt Bella's small hand attempt to encircle his shaft at the base as she once again took him in, deeper this time. He looked back down and immediately wondered if it might be possible to die of pleasure, as he was, once again, captivated by her succulent lips and those luscious, dark chocolate eyes which expressed so much._

"_Ahhh, f-fuck, Bella… Christ, that feels…. Oh, God… amazing…"_

_He reached down and let his hands glide through her impossibly silky hair, instinctually guiding her until he felt his cock hit the back of her throat._

Shit_, he thought,_ she's inexperienced, don't be such a fucking Neanderthal.

_He tried to draw back, but her hand tightened around him and, instead of gagging, he felt her swallow reflexively, her throat contracting rhythmically on the ultra-sensitive head, causing him to let out a tremulous, slightly high-pitched cry which, even to his own ears, made him sound like a girl._

Jesus, this is one fuck-hot dream.

_Any additional thoughts he might have had quickly scrambled into pure gibberish as Bella picked up the pace, her other hand coming up and gently massaging his aching balls._

_He kept thinking his knees were sure to buckle and send him tumbling to the floor before he could reach the apogee of his pleasure, but they held fast. However, it seemed to be getting very dark and he looked around to see black storm clouds gathering as light bled out of the sky with alarming speed—so much so, that when he looked back down he could barely see Bella, just the faint sparkle of her eyes._

"_Bella?" His voice sounded croaky and a little slurred._

_At that moment, as her mouth moved on the upstroke and her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and then into his slit, she moaned, a soft humming noise which resonated right through his shaft, making him cry out._

"_Fuck… meee!" _

_His dick seemed to swell and stiffen beyond human limits, the pleasure almost exquisitely painful and robbing him of breath, of words… of his very sanity. Like an out-of-control steam train thundering into a tunnel, his orgasm exploded through him and he came so hard he thought he was going to pass out._

_All he could feel was her throat, swallowing convulsively._

_All he could think was, '_How am I still standing?'

_All that went through his mind at that moment was a name, chanted like a litany._

_Bella, Bella, Bella…._

"Bella, Bella, Bella… ahhhhhhh…"

Edward's eyes flew open, just as Bella sat up from between his legs, a triumphant smile on her face, which was illuminated by a shard of moonlight slicing through the window.

Still breathing hard, Edward just stared at her, wondering if he was still dreaming… whether he had, in fact, been dreaming at all.

"Did you… did you just…?"

Bella nodded, her smile fading as she frowned slightly. And then she did what was possibly the hottest, sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Her tongue flickered out and oh-so-slowly captured what appeared to be a bead of semen from the corner of her mouth.

His eyes widened and then, without another conscious thought, he sat up and pulled her to him, welding his mouth to hers as he kissed her deeply. In the past, he had always been faintly disgusted by the idea of kissing a woman who'd just gone down on him, but he had no such reservations with Bella. The taste of himself in her mouth, bitter as it was, just turned him the fuck on, knowing what she had just done to him.

He kissed her long and hard, then twisted her around and pushed her down on her back. And then his kisses became slow and wet as he worked his way down her body. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he stilled for a moment, then pushed himself up on his knees and leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp.

"Edward!" Bella whined, throwing an arm over her eyes.

He chuckled darkly. "Sorry, B, I just wanted to talk about… this," he said, his fingers dancing lightly over her tattoo.

Bella slowly removed her arm from her face, and looked up at him. "What's there to talk about?" she asked quietly.

"Why, Bella? And when did you get it done?"

Bella sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely audible.

"I had it done after I came back home at New Year. After that fun Christmas with you and Twat-Lips Tanya. I don't really know why. I was drunk and there was this tattoo place just along the road from the bar I'd been in."

She paused, finally lowering her gaze to meet Edward's eyes.

"You and I both know a girl can look older than eighteen if she puts her mind to it, and I definitely looked old enough. I didn't even really know what I wanted when I went in, but then I saw all the letters of the alphabet and knew I wanted an 'E.' Kind of like, if I couldn't have you, then I would mark myself permanently with something that was part of you…"

Edward quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I know, I know, it makes no sense now, but I was sad and drunk and it made some kind of sense to me at the time. So—there you have it."

Edward shook his head slightly, before reaching out to turn off the lamp. He then lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on the tattoo, eliciting a breathy gasp from Bella.

And then he set to work on her, using his tongue and his lips and his fingers to bring her to a loud, panting climax.

As she came down, he crawled back up her body, covering her with his own and pushed slowly into her.

For what seemed the longest time, he rocked gently in and out, peppering her face, neck and breasts with hot, wet kisses. Then, as dawn began to break, light slicing through the dark and chasing the moon away, Edward picked up the pace, driving into Bella's body, desperately seeking release, wanting to feel her come undone around him.

Almost as if he needed to get them both there before the new day truly started.

Before he had to say goodbye.

**~o0o~  
**

Bright spring sunshine danced across the room, splashing the walls in a mosaic of gold and peach, as Bella stretched languidly in the big bed, her body aching deliciously. She rolled over to snuggle up to Edward, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold.

Frowning, she rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, looking around, but Edward was clearly not in the room, nor, by the silence and open door, was he in the bathroom.

Although she couldn't deny she was disappointed not to find her gorgeous husband asleep—or, better still, awake—beside her, she refused to let his absence from their bed bring her down after the unbelievable and incredible and _fucking fantastic_ events of the previous night. She couldn't wait to see him, feel his arms around her, kiss him and hold him. She would gladly forfeit Easter with her friends if it meant more of what Edward served up to her last night.

She slid out of bed and walked across the room, retrieving her pyjamas and slipping them on, before heading out to the kitchen.

The apartment was quiet and there was no sign of Edward, which she found a little puzzling. It was still early—not yet 8.00AM—and she was sure he wouldn't mind being late for work today, otherwise he would surely have woken her up before he had to leave. Perhaps he'd gone out for a paper or something.

She went over to the worktop to fill the kettle, then paused when she saw a folded piece of paper propped up against it.

Frowning, she picked it up and opened it out to reveal Edward's neat, beautifully cursive handwriting.

_Bella _(no darling, or dearest, or beautiful)

_Sorry I missed you, but I need to go into the office this morning and, unfortunately, I won't be home before you have to leave, but I've left the spare suitcase in your room so you'll be able to pack all your stuff, and I'll ask Rose to arrange a car to pick you up at 12.30PM to go to the airport._

_I'm not sure when I will get back to London, but hopefully I will be able to make it for your graduation, work permitting—drop me a line with the details when you know them._

_Please be safe and take care of yourself—I have always meant what I said when I told you I care and worry about you. Equally, I am and always will be your friend, if you'll let me. That may be hard for you to accept or understand right now, but with the perspective that distance can provide, I hope you soon will._

_Yours  
Edward_

_PS: Your flight details are attached and as I mentioned, Jessica and her mom will meet you at Heathrow._

Bella stared at the note, reading it over and over, trying to understand what had changed since last night.

And then, as the full import of his words hit home, her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor, a loud, keening howl shattering the quiet of the morning.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Hugs and squidges to my beta, Mauigirl60, and also to Cared and Midnight Cougar – I am so fortunate in my brilliant support team.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

**April – July 2011**

Much later, Bella would look back on the months following her return to England and struggle to recall anything other than a general impression of feeling numb and detached from the world.

Easter was a bit of a mixed bag. The three friends headed to Klosters, as planned, but Bella struggled to enjoy herself, and then felt even worse for ruining the trip, despite the girls' denials. During the second week, Jess and her family did their best to make it fun and include her in everything, and Lauren returned for a couple of days to dispense her unique brand of humour and advice, but Bella found it impossible to engage with anyone or anything around her.

Only at night, when she was exhausted from presenting a calm, stoic face to the world, did she relinquish control and give her emotions full rein. And often, as she cried into her pillow, trying desperately, but unsuccessfully, to muffle her sobs, the door would quietly open and, without a word, Jess or Lauren—and sometimes both—would crawl into bed with her and hold her tight until she fell into an unquiet sleep.

But even then, her dreams taunted her.

It was always some combination of chasing after something she could never reach. More often than not, she would be in a vast, labyrinthine house, walking or running from room to room in a desperate search for something which was never really defined, although it didn't take a degree in psychology to understand what—or who—she was looking for.

Back at school, Bella lost all interest in rebellion—all it had got her was a broken heart. She did exactly as she promised Edward she would do; she focussed on her lessons and course work, studied hard and avoided social situations as much as possible. Besides, immersing herself in work was a good way to stop herself thinking too much.

Jessica and Lauren remained stalwart friends, understanding when she needed cheering up, and when she needed to be left alone. They both grieved for the loss of their carefree, fun-loving pal, but revelled in any small progress Bella made towards closure and normality—be it a guarded smile, a quiet chuckle or a rolling of her eyes at Lauren's latest fuckery. They were steadfast in their support, knowing—or, at least hoping—that their friend would come out of it on the other side. They longed to rail against Edward, to call him every name, and rain down every conceivable misfortune on his head—from herpes to haemorrhoids—and between themselves they did just that. Bella, however, would not allow one word of abuse to be spoken in her presence. Not that she wanted any words spoken about Edward in her presence, good or bad.

And gradually, as is the way of such things, the pain became a little more manageable and Bella didn't have to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, didn't have to remind herself to breathe, and no longer had to force herself to find a reason to get up every morning.

She heard little from Edward, and when he did communicate, it was only ever by email and was generally about the company or legal matters. Occasionally, he would ask about school but apart from rather formal enquiries about her health, he never touched on anything personal. Bella would respond in similar terms, such that a casual reader who knew nothing about them would probably assume they were little more than acquaintances.

Occasionally, Bella would get an email from Rose, which she both loved and hated. Loved, because Rose was deliciously caustic about everyone and everything, frequently making her smile, and because she assiduously avoided any mention of Edward. Hated, because she assiduously avoided any mention of Edward.

Bella wanted so much not to care how he was, what he was doing… who he was doing it with. She longed for the black hole which had set up residence inside her, consuming every part of who she was, to reach critical mass and just either implode and disappear, or go supernova and take her out.

Curiously, in not one of Edward's admittedly infrequent emails, did he ever mention divorce. Perhaps he didn't trust her not to return to her wild-child behaviour, and wanted to ensure that she couldn't just tie herself to some bad boy looking to steal her money. However, Bella inevitably assumed that it was because he really didn't care that much—had even, perhaps, forgotten all about it. Maybe he wouldn't give it another thought unless he decided he wanted to remarry—a notion which hurt so much she quickly shut it away in a locked compartment of her brain, refusing to give it credence until she was forced to.

So, in this way, Bella survived. Not whole—she couldn't conceive of a time when she would be whole again—but because of school and her friends, she got by and started to let herself _feel_ again, tentatively at first, but, as time went on, with more confidence. The hole inside her, which at first had felt like it took up her entire chest cavity and abdomen, now seemed to have shrunk to manageable proportions, so much so that sometimes she could go hours without thinking about what she'd lost.; hours when she could smile or even laugh, and feel like a normal teenager; hours when she thought maybe the future held only good things for her and that she could and would move on, maybe even meet someone and fall in love again.

And then something would happen and she'd find herself wrapping her arms tightly around herself, as if she feared that all her insides would spill out onto the floor if she didn't hold them in. It might be seeing or hearing the name 'Edward'… Edward Rochester, Edward Scissorhands, Edward Ferrers, Edward Norton, Prince Edward, Edward VIII—who knew there were so many bloody Edwards. Or it might be something more direct… an email from Rose or, worse, from Edward himself, each cold, unfeeling word slicing into her like a thousand paper cuts.

Then, of course, there were all the phantom sightings… the ones where you see the object of your desire everywhere you look. A flash of auburn hair; the back of a tall, broad-shouldered man in an expensive suit; even an Aston Martin in British Racing Green flashing by.

Each momentary raising of her hopes, only to be dashed, seemed to form another callous on her heart, and if it hadn't been for her friends, Bella knew she would never have survived the final months of her school days. Their constancy, together with the huge amount of work to be done leading up to A-level exams, kept her functioning and sane as the end of term loomed, and she forced herself to enter into the swing of post-exam celebration plans.

"Lucinda Bodley-Henshaw is throwing a zombie party in the Upper Sixth Common Room." Lauren looked between her two best friends, a disturbingly gleeful look on her face.

Bella and Jessica looked at one another and grimaced. The three of them were in Bella's room, Lauren on the bed, Jess sitting sideways on the armchair, her legs thrown over one arm, and Bella on the floor leaning against Jess's chair.

"A zombie party? Where everyone dresses in their shittiest clothes and goes out looking like a car crash survivor? Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Lumpy's got less sense than mummy's springer spaniel, and we all know that Bathsheba is the dumbest dog ever to chew on a Bonio, bless her," Jess said, looking at Lauren as though she thought the girl might give her mother's dog a good run for her money.

Lauren huffed and stuck her tongue out at Jess, who immediately mirrored the gesture.

Bella smiled, shaking her head. "Come on, Lobbie, there's got to be something better than Hacksaw and her Barbie-brained, anorexic friends. I'd rather go into Brighton. Tara says that Deadmau5 are playing at Digital that weekend and there's a bunch of people going. That's way better than dressing in rags, pouring ketchup over yourself and dancing to One Direction in the Common Room, where the only thing to drink will be lemonade and fruit punch." Bella pulled a face at the very thought.

"Sounds great—good call, Bell." Jessica smiled at her and directed an expectant look at Lauren. She didn't say anything, but she was delighted that Bella had volunteered a suggestion for their night out, and a good one at that.

"I s'pose you're right, even if every man in the place will be as gay as Christmas. I wasn't serious about the whole zombie thing, I just wanted to scare you two into coming up with something better. Kudos to me, I believe!" She grinned at them, licking her index finger and making an invisible mark in the air.

Bella and Jess simultaneously picked up a scatter cushion each and threw it hard at Lauren, hitting her on the chest and head. With an odd gurgling shriek, Lauren fell back on the bed, causing her two friends to giggle at her expense.

"Bumholes, you two are both a pair of rancid, wanking tosspots, and I hate you," Lauren muttered, sitting up and throwing the cushions back at them. Neither hit their target and the two girls laughed harder.

"Oh, God, Lobz, you throw like a… a… well, like a girl," Jess snorted.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, toe-rags."

"Aww, you don't hate us, you luuurrrve us, Lobbie Loo," Jess giggled.

"Yeah, like I love constipation," Lauren grouched.

"Bollocks! You've never been constipated in your life, minger, you pooh like a heifer on sennapods and you have to hold in your farts in case you fill your knickers," Jess cried.

"And in case you render us all comatose with the noxiousness of your back door burps," Bella added, barely able to speak for laughing.

"Ha, so speaks the woman who let one go in assembly, causing everyone to move a safe distance," Lauren said, pointing an accusing finger at Bella.

"I so did not, that was that ghastly girl, Amelia Pocklington, the one with the moustache."

"Yeah, you always say that, but she was one of the first to move," Lauren responded.

"And that just proves it—she who smelt it, dealt it," Bella pronounced triumphantly.

At this, all three girls started giggling hysterically, only stopping when they could no longer breathe and their ribs ached.

It felt good to laugh so freely, and Bella revelled in the lightness of the moment, thankful, yet again, for the friendship she shared with Jessica and Lauren. It had been a long road to this point, and she knew there would still be difficult times ahead for her emotionally, but each time she experienced a moment like this she felt the black hole shrink just a little bit more. If nothing else, it gave her hope, and that had been in short supply since she returned home.

Of course, there were still setbacks. One such example came only a few days later, just after she completed her maths exam. Her friends had yet to finish and they had all agreed to meet in the Sixth Form Common Room when they were done. Whilst waiting, Bella decided to check her emails and pulled her iPad out of her bag.

As soon as she logged on, despite the numerous Facebook alerts, the email from Edward stood out as though it was highlighted in fluorescent purple. At first she tried to ignore it, but her curiosity got the better of her.

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Monday June 20, 2011 07:08  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: Graduation**

Bella

I hope this finds you in good spirits and that your exams are going well.

It occurs to me that you never responded to my enquiry about graduation – presumably it will be sometime late this month or early July. Also, what date does school let out and what are your plans for the summer? You should perhaps think about an internship at SP, as it will be good to have on your résumé for college.

I hope to be in London soon, if I can get away, so would be happy to attend graduation if you would like me to – if so, I would very much like to be there. Also, it would be a good opportunity for us to call in on Jonathan Harker to discuss the various matters which should be dealt with prior to your 18th birthday. And that thought makes me feel so old – 32 today, in fact.

Anyway, let me know your plans and I will so all I can to fall in with them, as we really do have a lot to talk about.

Yours  
Edward

**Edward A Cullen  
****CEO – Swan Publishing Inc**

Bella stared at the email, reading it over a second time. It was Edward's birthday. She had been so wrapped up in revision and exams—as well as trying hard to put all things Edward out of her mind—that she had completely forgotten. She hadn't sent a card… but then again, would he have wanted her to?

Her heart fluttered at the thought of him coming to England, of seeing him again.

_Damn him, every time I think I'm making progress, he throws me another googly._

Bella wrapped her arms around her midriff in an unconscious gesture and willed herself not to cry. Hearing familiar laughter coming from over by the door, she took a deep breath and released the tight grip she had on herself, turning off her iPad and slipping it back in her bag before her friends joined her. She would reply to Edward's email later, when she was alone in her room.

**~o0o~  
**

**From: Bella Swan  
****Sent: Monday 20 June 2011 23:09  
****To: Edward Cullen  
****Subject: RE: Graduation**

Edward

Thanks for your email and I'm well, thank you. Just took my maths and sociology exams today – I think I did okay.

With regard to your enquiry about graduation, I'm afraid there's little point in your coming to school as we don't do American style graduation ceremonies here in England, although we do have a Speech Day and prize-giving, but that was in November. We finish our exams, go out and celebrate and then bugger off home – or, in my case, someone else's home. Actually, Jess, Lauren and I have decided to go sit in the sun for a couple of weeks when we break up for the summer. Lauren's mum has said we can stay at their villa in Tuscany and we plan to eat, drink and chill, just to get school out of our systems before we have to start thinking about uni. I have offers from Magdalene College, Cambridge, which, as you know, is my first choice, and from Bristol, which would also be cool, if my grades aren't quite good enough for Cambridge. I will let you know as soon as I know.

School breaks up on Wednesday 6th July and we're flying to Italy on Monday 10th, so if you need me to go through any paperwork, please send it to me. I'm thinking about staying on in Italy for another week after Jess and Laurie return, or maybe more. I have decided that I want to go to Volterra, to see where Mum and Dad died – I know it's probably a bit morbid, but it feels like the right time now, before I start my new life at university. I'm not sure why, but it seems important – I suppose you Americans would call it closure or something. Anyway, that's my plan, but it means I probably won't have much time between finishing school and going up to Cambridge, especially as I need to sort out somewhere to live. I have it in mind to rent a house rather than live in halls, or maybe even buy a place, as I have the means to do so. It would be a sound investment, as it will give me a secure and comfortable place to live for 3 or 4 years and thereafter I can rent it out to other students.

So that's all my news. Hope you're okay and that work isn't stressing you out.

Bella

PS: I don't think working at SP is a good idea, and it will hardly be worth it by the time I get back from Italy. Besides which, I have already arranged to do some voluntary work for the homeless charity, Shelter.

PPS: Happy birthday – sorry I didn't send a card.

Bella read through her email and then pressed 'send'. Twenty minutes later, just as she was about to turn off her laptop and get into bed, she heard the ping alerting her to a new email.

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Monday June 20, 2011 23:30  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: RE: Graduation**

Bella

I didn't realise you have no culture of graduation ceremonies there. It seems a shame that students don't have some kind of recognition of the work they've done throughout their school years and that you just all walk out of school without anything to mark the occasion. I guess you don't have Year Books either – English schools are weird! Surely you have Prom?

As you are going away pretty much straight from school, I would like to try and meet you, say on July 6th or 7th – would that work for you? I could come and pick you up from wherever you're staying – presumably at Jessica's or Lauren's – and then bring you back after. Let me know if this suits you.

I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with the thought of you wandering about in Italy on your own, and I'm not sure visiting the site of such a devastating loss for you is a good idea. After all this time, I'm not even sure you would be able to find it, and there would be nothing there. I think all it would achieve is to open old wounds and I doubt you would get the closure you think you would. Please reconsider this plan or, if you really feel you have to go, at least take someone with you. I don't ask much of you these days, but I am asking now – please don't do this.

Yours  
Edward

**Edward A Cullen  
****CEO – Swan Publishing Inc**

**From: Bella Swan  
****Sent: Tuesday 21 June 2011 00:02  
****To: Edward Cullen  
****Subject: RE: Graduation**

Edward

I attend an English boarding school for girls where American traditions such as Prom are frowned upon.

Please arrange for any documentation to be left with Uncle Jonathan; I will go up to town when I return from Italy and sign everything then. My understanding is that the requirement is merely for me to sign it all before my birthday, and that we don't both have to sign it at the same time. I see no purpose in meeting with you, as I'm sure Uncle Jon can explain what I need to know, and I really can't spare the time right now.

With regard to your final remark, you asked everything of me, and, like a fool, I gave it all. I have nothing left. I follow my own path now and you have no say in my decisions and no right to ask anything of me, least of all this.

Bella

She turned off her laptop, killed the light and crawled into bed, where she cried until sleep claimed her.

**~o0o~  
**

Edward stared at his computer screen, his elbows propped on either side of the keyboard and his hands buried in his ravaged locks.

As he read Bella's final missive, pain sliced through him like a red hot dagger to his heart.

The last few months had been pure torture for him. Never had he imagined that it would be possible to be in such pain with no means of easing it or seeing an end in sight. Each day, he told himself to stop being such a weak, pathetic fool. But nothing in his life up to this point had prepared him for the indescribable torment of Bella's absence. No woman had ever before impinged on his life, let alone his heart and his psyche, the way she had. He tried to convince himself he was being ridiculous, that feeling this way over a seventeen-year-old girl he'd known since she was a child was clearly insane, that he was crazy to let the memory of her invade every part of his existence. But nothing he did could stop him from missing her, sometimes to such a degree, he thought the loss of a limb would be easier to come to terms with.

And it was all made infinitely worse by the knowledge that he was the architect of his own downfall… that by hurting Bella so deeply, his own pain was, to all intents and purposes, self-inflicted.

He buried himself in work, wanting to fill his time and his mind to such an extent that there would be no room for thoughts of Bella, but no matter how hard he tried, the memories inveigled their way into his head, taking up residence and refusing to leave.

And there was no escape at night. When he was able to sleep—which was all too rarely—his dreams were filled with visions of her… under him, above him, moaning and crying out his name as he moved inside her. At first, the exquisite pleasure of reliving those moments made him feel whole again, but then the dreams always changed to something far darker and very unpleasant.

Sometimes the beautiful brunette beneath him would morph into a blonde hellion with red eyes who looked like Tanya, and he would try desperately to pull away from her, only to be held to her by the death grip she had on him, squeezing the air out of his lungs; on these occasions, he would jerk awake with a gasping cry, her maniacal laughter still ringing in his ears.

Other times, Bella would be riding him hard when all of a sudden, just as his climax was approaching, her lovely brown eyes would empty of all emotion and she would bring a huge knife from behind her back and plunge it into his heart. At this point, his own screams would pull him violently into wakefulness, sweating and shaking, and unable to even contemplate trying to go back to sleep.

One of the few things that provided him with any kind of solace or satisfaction, was his pursuit of James.

He had, in fact, started looking for him the moment he and Bella had arrived back in New York from Las Vegas, although he had said nothing to her about his quest. In fact, he hadn't told anyone, including Rose or Emmett, keeping his decision to hire a private detective to himself until such time as he either found James or drew a blank.

In the end, of course, it had taken remarkably little time or effort to locate the man, as he had been able to provide a name and description to the investigator, who had, in very short order, been able produce a shortlist of six individuals. On examination of the various profiles emailed to him, Edward had been able to quickly pick out the relevant one, whereupon the PI had then put together a detailed profile of where he lived and worked, his financial status, who his friends were, where he hung out and what car he drove. Much to Edward's irritation, James had not lost his job and seemed to have picked up right where he left off on his return to New York.

And so he started to makes plans on how best to deal with the piece of crap who almost destroyed his Bella. At the very least, he hoped it might go some way to ameliorate his anger at himself.

He did not mention it to Rose or Emmett.

**~o0o~**

Ironically, things at work had begun to resolve themselves. Shortly after Bella went home, Mike Newton was able to identify the mystery share buyer, who turned out to be Jane Volturi, whose father owned the Volturi Group, the publishing arm of which was one of their main rivals. Jane had been buying up shares through various holding companies which were registered under her married name of Jane Constantinou, even though she was divorced from her husband, Demetri. Further delving revealed that these holding companies were, in turn, part of the Volturi Group.

Edward had decided to confront the problem head-on—if for no other reason than it would give him something to focus on, something tangible to fill his time, and thus push thoughts of Bella to the back of his mind. He knew Jane a little—the publishing business was quite a small and incestuous community—and called her office to see if he could set up a meeting. Much to his surprise, she was more than agreeable and offered to buy him lunch.

As it turned out, their encounter was remarkably pleasant. Upon being challenged as to her intentions, Jane was quite forthcoming, telling Edward that as Swan Publishing and Volturi Publishing had similar markets, they surely had similar goals and should be natural allies.

Jane was an attractive and amusing companion, and Edward found himself relaxing and even laughing for the first time in what felt like years. Blonde, blue-eyed and petite, Jane was intelligent and knowledgeable about the business, with a sharp and acerbic wit which kept Edward on his toes, and, despite their business rivalry, he found that they had a lot in common.

For her part, Jane found herself exactly where she and her father wanted her to be. Aro Volturi had, for several years now, coveted control of Swan Publishing, with its A-list authors and expanding digital division. When Edward Cullen had first set up in New York, the Volturi brothers had dismissed the little-known British company as an also-ran, just a small-time family firm which would, at best, be nothing more than a niche business and, at worst, would fail within the first year. They soon realised that they had underestimated Charles Swan and his dynamic young protégé, and had watched with ever increasing disquiet as SP had grown and flourished in the hard-nosed world of New York publishing.

For Aro and his younger brother, Caius, there was too much at stake to allow this to continue, although they knew they would need to bide their time. However, when Charlie and his wife had been killed, they began to form a strategy. At first, with Cullen in sole charge, and with control over more than 70% of the company, there was little they could do, but it was Jane who had seen the potential opportunity as the Swan heiress was approaching her eighteenth birthday.

Her plan was a simple one—and had the benefit of a Plan B, should Plan A go awry.

Jane had long regarded Edward Cullen as a potential suitor, even before her ill-fated marriage, and more so since her divorce—he was, after all, one of New York's most eligible bachelors. If she could gain control of 21 percent of SP's shares, this would make her the second largest shareholder, ahead of Edward. She would then suggest joining forces with him—both in the boardroom and the bedroom—in order to enlist his undoubted powers of persuasion to get Isabella Swan to relinquish her own share of the company to Jane and Edward. But they needed to do it before the child reached her majority and whilst Edward still wielded control as her guardian.

Should an alliance with Edward fail, then Plan B would involve side-lining him and joining forces with the girl, driving a wedge between Isabella and her guardian, and then, once she was isolated, using whatever means available—be it gentle persuasion or outright intimidation—to make her part company with her shares. Certainly, Jane wasn't above ordering—or, indeed, personally using—physical violence to achieve her aims.

Either way, Jane intended to gain control of Swan Publishing and its highly-lucrative contracts, and then absorb it into the Volturi Group. So far, she had acquired 9 percent of the available shares, so was nearly half way to overtaking Edward, but getting hold of any part of the remaining shares was proving to be something of a challenge, even for her. There were half a dozen shareholders in possession of the stock she wanted but who were resistant to the overtures made by her agent. They were all British and all seemed to have some kind of misplaced loyalty to Charles Swan, or something, so she was having to box clever to get them to relinquish what she had already decided was rightfully hers. It might be that a little more than money would be required—her agent would need to get creative with his methods of persuasion, and not for the first time.

What she didn't know, of course, was the current marital status of the two main protagonists with whom she intended to engage in battle. Indeed, other than the newlyweds themselves, only Rose, Emmett, Jessica and Lauren knew about it, all of whom were sworn to secrecy.

Jane's hand was being forced a little earlier than she would have liked, but now that the cat was out of the bag, she had no hesitation in pursuing her goal. So now, here she sat, opposite Edward, whilst she put phase one of her plan in place; namely, charming the pants off him—and, hopefully, not just metaphorically. Jane knew Tanya Denali well enough to know that Edward was great in the sack, and she wanted some of that. Demetri had been a passable lover but she had quickly tired of him. He had been one of her father's foot soldiers, a mere cog in the wheel who had risen through the ranks by dint of his innate cunning and foresight. But marrying the boss's daughter had its downsides as well as its upsides, and when Jane accused her husband of having an affair, despite her own frequent infidelities, Demetri found himself out on his ear with no job, no home and no alimony.

When Jane wanted to hurt someone, she made sure she left them crawling, broken and helpless, in the dirt.

And now she was on the hunt for more than just a business partner. She saw Edward as a challenge, and a man who could be her equal in all things. He was an alpha male, truly worthy of her attention. What's more, rumour had it that he and Tanya Denali were now history and that Edward was once again on the market.

Unaware of Jane's Machiavellian plotting, and fresh from the devastation of his break-up with Bella, Edward was looking for a friend and maybe someone who could fill the aching void.

And blondes were his thing, weren't they? He'd always preferred blondes… always. Jane was the absolute antithesis of Bella. She was independent, clever, confident, sexy… _legal_. He told himself that Bella was just a disingenuous girl who had flattered his ego. Wasn't he approaching that dangerous age when the attentions of a pretty young woman could momentarily blind a man to reality? A sort of temporarily madness, if you will. Yes, that was it. And allied to that was the very real need to protect the company. Yes, the company was what mattered, everything else was incidental.

That was, after all, why he was sitting opposite the daughter of his arch rival, listening to her talk eloquently and rationally about how, separately, their two companies could continue to plod along in the wake of such power-houses as Random House, Harper Collins and Simon & Schuster, or they could join forces to become a major player.

"Tell me, Edward, what happens when that sweet little girl turns eighteen and decides she wants to try her hand at being a businesswoman? What are you going to do when she decides that everything you've spent the last eight years building should be run differently? She's a 51 percent stockholder and has zero percent knowledge or experience. She could wipe out everything you've achieved in a matter of months. Surely, it would be better to give the girl options. I know you can't buy her out on your own, but you and me, together, we could come up with a deal that would set her free from all the responsibility and make her a very rich young woman."

Jane observed Edward, who was quiet for the moment, looking down at his coffee cup, a contemplative look on his face, and she knew she had tapped directly into his biggest fear. Looking up at last, he turned his speculative gaze on her.

"I don't think you understand how important SP is to Bella. It's her father's legacy and you shouldn't underestimate what that means to her."

"Oh, Edward, she's just a child, a hormonal teenager. She probably has the attention span of a fruit-fly. I think you _over_estimate her."

Edward smiled, shaking his head a little as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. He glanced back at Jane, but waited for her to continue.

"Look, I don't know the girl—"

"Her name is Bel—Isabella, and no, you don't know her," Edward interrupted, trying hard to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Jane smiled, but knew she needed to tread carefully. There was history here and she couldn't afford to alienate Edward.

"Of course, you're right. I'm sorry. As I was saying, I don't know Isabella, but I know girls of her age—I was once a spoiled seventeen year old with too much money, you know." She laughed softly at the thought. "I couldn't imagine wanting to get involved in daddy's business, all I thought about then was clothes and boys… not necessarily in that order," she giggled, the lie falling easily from her lips.

"And yet, look at you now, Jane, Queen Bee of the Volturi Group, and Aro's trusted partner and confidante," Edward pointed out.

"True, but only with daddy's guidance and support. Had he decided that the company would be better served by pushing me in a different direction, not only would he have done just that, but I would have trusted his decision to do so."

"Your point being…?"

"My point being, Edward, that it may be in the better, long term interests of SP that Isabella is encouraged to go her own way and leave the business to those who know what they are doing and how best to take it forward. And as her guardian, you have the most influence over her, she probably trusts your judgement and would take your advice. If you told her that it would be better to sell her interest in the company to you, or even extend your current power of attorney over her shares, then I'm sure she would understand and go along with it."

Jane paused, reaching out to cover Edward's hand with her own where it rested on the table.

"Just think about it, Edward, that's all I ask. Think about how great we could be together."

Edward looked at her, not missing the double meaning behind her last words.

"Okay, Jane, I'll think about it, but I will obviously need to discuss it with Bella. It has to be her decision." He didn't bother to correct her assumption about his guardianship… and Jane didn't miss his use of a nickname for the girl.

"Of course, and I'm sure you will explain it perfectly. But do make sure she knows she has options. You say she's a bright girl—which means she can be anything she wants. She doesn't have to be tied down to a future that's set in stone for the rest of her life. Being rich and pretty means she has the world at her feet, and I'm sure, if you care at all about her, you want what's best for her. And you do care, I can tell you do. So let her fly, Edward."

He regarded her for a moment, and although he knew there was a very large element of self-interest in what Jane said, for the first time it dawned on Edward that there was also a good deal of truth. Did Bella want to be tied to SP for her entire working life, or did she simply believe that was what was expected of her? Did she have dreams to do something else… to _be_ something more? Perhaps she wanted to be a writer or a designer, maybe she wanted to sing or act or paint. He had no idea. What the hell had she said she wanted to study at college? Politics? So perhaps Jane was right. And if Bella truly wanted to pursue other paths, then she might be happy to sign over SP to him… well him and Jane, he couldn't do it on his own.

And if she was no longer part of Swan Publishing, then she would no longer need to be part of his life or vice versa. Maybe this was the answer. Cut off all ties, make a clean break, move on with their lives.

Edward closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to help him suppress the gasp of pain that threatened to burst from his lips.

Then he felt Jane's small, cool hand squeeze his and he opened his eyes to meet her crystal blue orbs, which seemed to be full of concern.

"Hey, are you okay, Edward?" she asked softly.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. And you're right, Jane, I need to explain to Bella that there's more than one future mapped out for her."

"Absolutely, and like I say, she trusts you, Edward. If she's as bright as you say she is, she'll let you guide her. And should she decide to sell, then the sky's the limit. There's no end to where we can take a Swan-Volturi joint venture. We can move out of the minor leagues and be a real force to be reckoned with in the major league." She grinned at him and he couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm.

"Hey, here's an idea. I really have to run now—I have a meeting down on Wall Street in half an hour—but there's still so much to talk about, so why don't you and I have dinner next week?"

"Uh…" Edward wasn't at all sure about dinner. Lunch was one thing, but dinner was a whole different ball game.

"Come on, Edward, I promise I won't bite… well, not unless you want me to." She giggled coquettishly, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and Edward forced himself to smile in return.

Meeting her gaze, Edward nodded. Jane was exactly the kind of woman he should be with, so why not enjoy dinner and perhaps something else… something more. It was time to move on.

"Okay, tell me where and when and I'll be there."

* * *

**Translation:**  
Googly – a cricketing term; this is a ball thrown with a particular spin put on it which gives it a curved and unpredictable trajectory.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks to my brilliant beta, MauiGirl60, and to the two other members of my wonderful support team, Cared and Midnight Cougar – you're the best, ladies, you really are.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN  
**

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Monday June 27, 2011 23:17  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: Meeting with J Harker**

Bella

I refer to your email of June 21st, and I'm sorry you feel that way. You must, of course, do what feels right for you. I will not interfere further.

I have now resolved matters here in New York and will be flying to London this Friday July 1st. Kate has provisionally arranged a meeting with Jonathan at his office on either Tuesday July 5th at 3.30PM or Thursday July 7th at 11.00AM – are you sure you can't spare the time to come up to town before you leave for Europe? As per my previous offer, if it helps, I could drive down to pick you up and take you back.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours  
Edward  
**Edward A Cullen  
****CEO – Swan Publishing Inc  
**

**From: Bella Swan  
****Sent: Tuesday 28 June 2011 07:42  
****To: Edward Cullen  
****Subject: RE: Meeting with J Harker**

Edward

As I said in my last email, school breaks up next Wednesday, so Jess and I are packing up all our stuff into a hired van and are driving to her place in Buckinghamshire on the 7th. We will be leaving from there early on the 10th to fly to Italy, so I would prefer not to hack up to town before my holiday.

Bella

Edward sighed at the terseness of Bella's email, although he supposed he couldn't really blame her. He was hoping to have a chance to talk to her while he was in London, but she seemed determined to avoid such an opportunity. They needed to meet, in order to get past what had happened between them, and hopefully re establish their friendship. He would then feel a lot more comfortable talking to her about the matters he and Jane had discussed.

Reflecting on the evening he'd spent with Jane, he felt reasonably satisfied with the way things had gone. There had been some pretty forthright and open conversation about business, but there had also been a lot of flirting. Dinner had been at her apartment and she had produced a stellar Italian meal—although, when Edward complimented her on the food, she had laughed and told him she had ordered in from her favourite restaurant.

After dinner, they had relaxed in the living room over brandy and coffee, with Jane showing no inclination to send him home. Edward tried hard to enjoy their interplay, but as the night drew to a close, he found himself wondering how to avoid a goodnight kiss without insulting his hostess. In the end, Jane had taken the initiative, and although it made him feel uneasy, he had let it happen.

It was an odd sensation, kissing Jane. Not… unpleasant, exactly, but sort of… alien, unfamiliar. Jane had perfect, cupid-bow lips, like one of those Victorian porcelain dolls, and he thought they would be… well, _perfect_. But they kind of… weren't. He pulled away quickly, fighting the urge to wipe the back of his hand over his mouth to rid himself of the residue of her kiss.

Seemingly oblivious to Edward's ambivalence, Jane made it as clear as she could without actually spelling it out that she wanted Edward to stay the night, but although a part of him wanted that kind of… _intimacy_ that had been missing from his life for way too long, he told himself it was too soon, that he should spend some time getting to know Jane, take her out on an actual date, _court_ her. It was thus with a sense of relief that he made his excuses and went home. He would not allow himself to examine his motives for leaving, in case he came up with a reason which would send him spiralling back into the black depression he'd fallen into after Easter—something he would avoid at all costs. Nevertheless, he deemed the evening a success and, yet again, tried to convince himself that he could see his relationship with Jane developing into something more… personal.

With that in mind, he focussed back on his computer screen, clicked 'Reply' and started typing.

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Tuesday June 28, 2011 09:33  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: RE: Meeting with J Harker**

Bella

I really would like the chance to talk – there are things we need to discuss before your birthday. As you are so short of time, I could drive down there on Saturday or Sunday – surely you have time for lunch on one of those days?

Let me know what you think.

Yours  
Edward  
**Edward A Cullen  
****CEO – Swan Publishing Inc  
**

**From: Bella Swan  
****Sent: Tuesday 28 June 2011 15:18  
****To: Edward Cullen  
****Subject: RE: Meeting with J Harker**

Edward

This weekend is our last at school and there's stuff going on right through Saturday and Sunday, and into Monday, However, if it's so important to you that we 'talk', then I suppose we could meet for coffee on Saturday morning at, say, 11.30AM. That's the best I can do.

Bella

**From: Edward Cullen  
****Sent: Tuesday June 28, 2011 15:25  
****To: Isabella Swan  
****Subject: RE: Meeting with J Harker**

Bella

Fine, I suppose that will have to do. I will pick you up from school on Saturday at 11.30. I look forward to seeing you then.

Yours  
Edward**  
Edward A Cullen  
****CEO – Swan Publishing Inc  
**

Edward could see the way things were going to be with Bella, and it broke his heart that it now seemed likely they would never again be friends. That thought had him taking a deep breath in order to quell the sudden lump in his throat.

_It's in the past, we're both moving on, no point dwelling on what might have been. Jane… I should call her, take her out. Yeah, I'll call Jane…_

Edward's desk phone rang and he stared for a moment at the display which told him Rose was calling. Then, because he knew Rose would just storm in and shout at him if he didn't pick up, he grabbed the handset and put it to his ear.

"Jeez, Edward, what were you doing in there?"

Edward ignored her impertinent question. "What do you want, Rose?"

"Em called, said he's got some news he wants to share and asked if we were both free for lunch."

Edward frowned. "News? What news? And why doesn't he just take you out, what's it got to do with me?"

Rose sighed. "I don't know what it's about, Edward, but you're his best friend, the closest he's got to a brother, and he wants to buy us both lunch. So, are you in?"

Edward sighed. He had been avoiding Emmett and they'd seen little of one another over the preceding months. He usually managed to come up with an excuse to get out of boys' nights out—both one-on-one and in groups—and he never went out anymore with Emmett and Rose, as their evident love for one another was really hard to witness.

He missed his friend, but on the odd occasions when Emmett had cornered him and practically forced him to go out, he just couldn't bear the constant sympathetic looks his friend gave him, nor his assiduous avoidance of any talk relating to the elephant in the room.

But this sounded important and it was, after all, only lunch.

"Okay, Rose, tell him I can make it. Oh, and can you confirm my flight for Friday and get Kate to confirm the appointment with Jonathan Harker for 11.00AM on the 6th."

"Sure…"

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking, I guess this means you'll be seeing Bella, then." Rose tried to sound nonchalant, particularly knowing what a sensitive subject this was, but it really wasn't working.

"Briefly, yes. She's leaving school next week and we need to wrap up the paperwork on her inheritance and discuss her future. Okay?"

"Oh, Edward, don't you think—"

"No, Rose, I don't think. And it's none of your fucking business, so for the millionth time, just back off."

Edward slammed the phone down. He immediately stood, put on his jacket and headed out of his office. As he passed Rose, he told her he was going to see Mike Newton, quickening his stride in order to give her no time to speak.

When he didn't return to his office before lunch, Rose had to call him to tell him where she was meeting Emmett, and ask him not to be late.

He _was_ late, arriving at the restaurant long after they had finally given up and ordered, and just as their food was being served. Edward ordered a Caesar salad for quickness, and sat down, throwing Emmett an apologetic look.

Rose was seething, but Emmett just squeezed her hand under the table and gave her the look that said, 'forget it, baby, it's all cool.'

"Hey, Edward, long time no see. How are you?" he asked his friend in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

"I'm fine, Em. Look, I'm sorry, I just lost track of time, you know how it is."

"Yeah, sure, man, no problem."

Emmett turned to his food, whilst Edward poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table.

"So, Rose said you had some news?"

Emmett laid his knife and fork down on his plate and reached for Rose's hand. She looked down at their joined hands and back up at him, a slightly panicky look on her face.

Edward's eyes widened and he started to get up.

"Christ, Em, you don't need me here—"

"Sit the fuck down, Edward. And Rose, stop looking at me like that. Anything that's just about you and me is not going to happen in front of this fucker, so take a breath and calm the fuck down."

He looked between his girl and his friend.

"Okay, here's the way it is. Rose comes first, then my family—and when I say family, that includes you, Edward, you know that. You're my brother, and all that stands between me and all the fucking women in my life. God help me, if Rose and I ever get round to having kids, I bet they're all gonna be fucking girls, because that seems to be my lot in life."

He ignored the look of astonishment on Rose's face, and confusion on Edward's.

"So, anyway, as the rest of my family are two hundred miles away, that leaves you two. Edward, do you remember my crazy aunt Siobhan?"

Edward knitted his brow, wondering where the hell Emmett was going with all this.

"God, I don't know, Em. I mean, all your aunts are kinda crazy." He smiled ruefully, first at Emmett and then at Rose, who snorted her agreement.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but you must remember Siobhan. She married that guy with the limp and they were always going off on madcap adventures. He was, like, her fourth or fifth husband or something. Said he owned an oil field in Texas but we all thought he was full of shit 'cos he looked like a hobo, but he and Siobhan were all over each other and he really seemed to love her, so we just let them get on with it. Remember? They got arrested when the cops found her going down on him in a Safeway parking lot when they were in their 60s… jeez, I think the old fucker was probably in his 70s. And they called me—she told the cops her nephew was a hot-shot lawyer and would get them off. Remember now?"

Edward was laughing. "Yeah, I remember. And as I recall, you got the charges dropped and… that's right—didn't you threaten the cops with a lawsuit for invasion of privacy, and they ended up paying compensation or something?"

"That's it! I got them $10,000, and Siobhan's husband, Ray, was so pleased he kept telling me he was going to put me in his Will." Emmett chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.

"And did he?" Rose asked.

"Nah, apparently not."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Em. Then what's this all about?" Edward blurted.

"Well, poor old uncle Ray died a few months back, somewhere in the ass-end of Washington State, and left everything to his beloved wife, Siobhan. We didn't hear about it until recently because they've been travelling for the last three or four months. And it seems that old Ray… well, he wasn't lying about that oil field. Turns out he had a ranch going back to the old pioneer days… his great, great whatever grand-daddy staked a claim and eked out a living, and then when Ray inherited it, they found oil. So here's this guy with a limp, who never wears anything except an old pair of Levis, a plaid shirt and a Stetson, who drives around in a 1980s Oldsmobile and thinks the sun shines out of crazy Siobhan's ass."

He paused, looking from one to the other.

"I swear to fucking God, Emmett McCarty, if you don't get to the point in the next 30 seconds you can wave goodbye to pussy-time tonight!" Rose narrowed her eyes at him, frustration pouring out of her. Edward grimaced and stuck his fingers in his ears.

"Whoa, gross, Rose."

Emmett held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay. So, the old man was a millionaire and left everything to Siobhan. And a week after he goes, she follows him. Which I guess isn't surprising, 'cos up until Ray croaked, they never spent a day apart since saying their vows."

Emmett shook his head in wonderment, his eyes glazing slightly as he became lost in thought, only to be brought back with a crash when Rose slapped him hard across the back of the head.

"Oww! Fuck, Rose, impatient much?" He rubbed the back of his head and pouted at her.

"So help me, Bear…"

"She left her entire fortune to me and the girls," he blurted in an attempt to avoid further injury.

Rose and Edward stared at him as he looked from one to the other. Edward was the first to break the silence.

"So, you and your sisters split the money six ways. How much are we talking, Em?"

"Um, well, after legal costs and tax, it apparently works out at, uh, something in the region of three mil apiece," he told them quietly.

Rose's mouth dropped open, her blue eyes widening to such a degree, Emmett was afraid they might pop right out of her head, and he was relieved when she finally spoke.

"Three. Million." She transferred her attention to Edward. "Did he say three _million? Dollars?"_

After a moment, Edward realised that Rose's question was not, in fact, rhetorical and that she was waiting for him to confirm what Emmett had said. He turned to look at his friend.

"Three million dollars, Em? That's what you said, right?"

He shrugged. "Eh, give or take a few hundred grand, yeah, about that."

Edward and Rose looked back at each other, huge grins spreading across their faces, and then the two of them hurled themselves at Emmett, throwing their arms around him in a massive group hug as they all started laughing.

When the back-slapping and laughter eased up, Edward ordered champagne, and when Emmett said he wasn't going back to the office as he needed to meet with Siobhan's lawyer before heading to Boston to see his family, Edward took one look at Rose's face and told her to take a few days off so she could go with him.

After paying the bill, he stood up to leave and Emmett got up as well, taking Edward's proffered hand and pulling him in for a big man-hug.

"Thanks, man. I didn't want to ask, but I really need Rose to come with me."

"No problem, Em. And congratulations again, it's great news."

Then, much to Edward's surprise, Rose walked around the table and opened her arms to envelop him in a tight embrace. After a slight hesitation, Edward slid his arms around her and returned the hug, as Rose turned her head into his neck to speak softly.

"Thank you, Edward, I… just, thanks. I'll be back as soon as—"

"Take as much time as you and Em need, Rose. Mike and Angela can take up the slack, and I'll be flying to London at the end of the week, so there's no need for you to rush back."

He felt her kiss him on the cheek and then she moved back a little, resting her hands on his shoulders. Without looking away, she spoke to Emmett.

"Hey, Bear, would you get my coat, please."

Emmett looked between them and then just nodded, turning away.

"Edward, please promise me one thing."

His brow crinkled as he looked at Rose questioningly.

"What?"

"Promise me you will be kind to that girl, and that you will be honest with her."

"Rose—"

"I mean it, Edward. I know you can't—or won't—admit how you feel about her… hell, maybe you really believe the crap you've been telling yourself, but please don't lie to her, she deserves better than that. She loves you… or, at least, she did before you fucked it all up. But if you really can't be with her, then let her go… really let her go. Don't keep her hanging on, it's not fair to either of you. Promise me, Edward."

"I've only ever wanted her to be happy, Rose," he said quietly.

"I know, but sometimes, in order to make people happy, we have to sacrifice our own happiness. If you love her, set her free—if she comes back, she's yours; if she doesn't, she never was."

Edward snorted. "You sound like a Hallmark card. I'm not sure sappy suits you."

"It's a cliché, Edward, but that doesn't stop it being true."

"I know, Rose. I'll figure it out, I promise."

She nodded and pulled away, turning to join Emmett, who was waiting patiently near the door. They all exited together, Edward heading back to the office, whilst Emmett and Rose walked in the opposite direction, hand-in-hand.

**~o0o~**

**Thursday 30 June 2011**

The following night, knowing his friends were far away, Edward went for a drink in a pokey little bar on the Lower East Side, somewhere south of the Williamsburg Bridge. It was almost diametrically opposite his Battery Park apartment, but a complete world away in terms of socio-economic demographics. Even dressed down in his shabbiest jeans and jacket, he felt overdressed and out of place. But this was of little import to him right now.

It was perfect for his purposes.

Wearing a black beanie to hide his distinctive auburn locks, and light brown-coloured contact lenses to disguise his equally distinctive green eyes, he sat at a table in the darkest recesses of the dingy bar, knowing that this was the kind of place which took little notice of the clientele and cared even less about them. Before he had set out this evening, he had been informed of where the rear exit was, where it came out, and where best to park his car—on this occasion, a nondescript, dark-painted Ford with muddied, indecipherable licence plates.

Earlier that day, an email message had been relayed to a man who lived barely a stone's throw from this very bar, telling him that if he turned up at a certain time he would learn something to his advantage. The very next day, when he would try to find that message as proof of his assignation, it would be mysteriously missing from his inbox and also from the server of his internet provider.

For now, Edward had no doubt that such an opportunist wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of making a fast buck. Indeed, right on time, his prey entered the bar and looked around curiously. However, despite his perusal of the assembled customers, he missed Edward where he sat in the shadows.

Instead, he walked over to the bar, ordered a beer and sat on one of the empty stools. As soon as he had his back to the room, Edward got up and walked quickly over to the bar and, barely pausing, spoke softly into the man's ear.

"Follow me, Mr Hunter."

And then he was walking away towards the 'Exit' sign at the back, and James was left staring for a moment at his back, before he was galvanised into action. Sliding quickly off the stool, he took his beer and walked quickly in the direction of the mystery man.

He quickly found himself back outside, but this time in a narrow alley lined with dumpsters, and with just a single flickering street lamp at one end, which, far from lighting the dank passage, served only to cast more shadows.

He looked around, frowning, and stepped further into the alley to peer around the first set of dumpsters. "Hey, is anyone th—"

He didn't finish his query, as something hit him hard in the back and he was propelled violently forward, his momentum sending him reeling onto his hands and knees, as the beer bottle he'd been holding flew out of his hand and smashed on the ground ahead of him.

"What the fu—ahhhhh!" He cried out as someone grabbed his right arm from behind, pushing it painfully up his back, whilst a second hand took hold of a handful of hair and dragged him up and onto his feet. There was little respite, however, as his unknown assailant propelled him into the opposite wall, smashing his face into the brickwork and ramming his arm even further up his back until he thought it was going to pop out of its socket.

"Take my wallet… please, don't kill me… you can have my phone… oh God, please… ahhh!"

"Shut the fuck up, you low-life piece of human excrement. I don't want your fucking money," a low voice hissed in his ear.

James trembled at the pure loathing that he heard, and tried to look around, but Edward pushed his face hard into the wall again, making him cry out. James was pretty sure he'd broken his nose, and also a tooth, his mouth filling with blood.

"Wha—what do you want?" he gasped, slurring somewhat because of the way his face was being pushed into the brickwork.

"What I want, shithead… at least, what I would like, is for you to die a horrible, painful death… but it seems this is your lucky night, and I'm feeling generous. But I'll be watching you, and if I ever hear that you've taken advantage of another innocent girl, I swear I will make you wish you were dead."

"Whaaa—oh fuck me, you're Edward Cul—_arrgghhh!" _Again, he was unable to finish his sentence, as Edward punched him hard in the kidney.

"I think you'll find you're mistaken, fucktard. There are half a dozen very wealthy, very influential people who will swear to a Grand Jury that they saw Edward Cullen at a benefit gala all night tonight on the other side of town."

Edward punched him again and James' legs buckled as the pain threatened to render him unconscious. However, Edward wouldn't let him fall, smashing his face one last time into the wall.

"Listen up, dickwad. You touch another underage girl and I will make it my personal mission in life to ensure you end up in Rikers, in the sex offenders wing—a pretty boy like you… well, you'd get fucked so hard you'd probably need diapers."

James didn't respond, and Edward finally let him go, allowing him to collapse in a heap on the filthy ground. Bending over him, Edward pulled off his watch and patted him down for his phone and wallet. Finding them both in an inside pocket, he straightened up and stood for a moment looking down at the semi-conscious man. Then, with one last hard kick to his groin he turned and walked away.

At the end of the alley, he went left and walked down the street to where his car was parked under a broken street lamp. He climbed in and started the engine, sitting for a moment to allow his heart-rate to slow to a more normal beat. He took a circuitous route to his office, and parked on a side road. The following day the car would be gone, never to be seen again.

At SP, he made his way up to his darkened office through the empty building, where he cleaned up and changed back into the tuxedo he'd been wearing earlier. He left the building, as he had entered, by the back entrance, walking half a block until he found a dumpster, where, after wiping them down with a handkerchief, he tossed James' wallet, phone and watch. A half block further on, he stopped at the entrance to an alley, where a young couple were huddled together in the dark. He knew he probably wasn't doing them any favours, but he pulled out the thirty odd bucks from his pocket which he had extracted from James' wallet to make it look like a mugging, and held it out to the couple. They shrank away for a second until the boy saw the money and, with one swift glance back at Edward, snatched it from his hand. Before he could even thank him, his benefactor was gone.

Twenty minutes later, Edward was to be found in the company of Mayor Bloomberg at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, commending the man on his policy of zero tolerance with regard to violent crime in the city.

The following day, for those who followed such matters, there was a very nice photograph of Edward Cullen and the Mayor on the society pages of some of the city's newspapers, with a positively gushing article praising the generosity of one of New York's finest citizens.

Sadly, having spent the night in the ER, James was unable to get out to buy a newspaper, so missed the article.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday 2 July 2011**

Bella paced her room, phone in hand, trying to come up with a feasible excuse to put Edward off coming to Roedean. She glanced at her radio-alarm clock for what must have been the twentieth time, wondering if it was too early to call him… no, a text would be better. It was 5.45AM and she had already been up for almost an hour, unable to sleep. She needed to think of something which would persuade him not come, and would have to let him know before he set out from London.

Illness was probably the best bet, but it would need to be serious enough to keep him away, but not so serious that he would worry and come anyway… or, worse, call Mrs Banner.

Bella swore, unable to think straight, and decided there was no point calling yet. He would probably set off for Brighton between 10.00 and 10.30, so she had time, and with that thought in mind she decided to take a shower.

At 9.30 she sent a text to Edward.

Sorry to txt so late – hope you haven't left yet – have really bad cramps, think my periods starting. Raincheck? B

Bella tossed her phone onto the bed and turned on her laptop to check her emails, but was distracted barely a minute later when her phone pinged with a text.

Already in Brighton, stayed at Drakes Hotel last night on Marine Parade so am just 5 mins away. Thought u were on the pill to stop cramps. Take some aspirin and I will come up to the school in an hour to see how u r. E

Bella stared at her phone in abject horror, before dropping heavily onto the bed.

_Shit, shit, shit._

She cursed her own stupidity, realising she should have told him she was massively hungover—which was somewhat true—and that said hangover involved projectile vomiting—which wasn't. The fact was, of course, that she hadn't wanted to admit she'd been drinking heavily the night before, despite the fact that she'd told him she would be partying all weekend.

Sighing in resignation, she quickly shot off a text confirming the arrangement.

**~o0o~**

Forty-five minutes later, Bella was sitting in front of her computer screen, firing off tweets to random followers, when she heard a huge kerfuffle outside her door, which, seconds later, burst open to reveal Jess and Lauren, who appeared to be fighting over who should enter the room first.

"Bugger off, minger, I saw him first, I should tell her," Laurie yelled.

"Yeah, but he spoke to _me,_ twatface," Jess insisted.

"Only because you practically fell at his feet and tried to lick his boots."

"Ha… talk about the pot calling the kettle grimy-arsed."

"Well, at least I didn't have my tongue hanging out."

"Even if that were true—which it so isn't—it would have been the _only_ thing you didn't have hanging out, you trollop. My God, you practically whipped your knockers out right in front of his face-"

"Aggghhh… shut _up_!" Bella cried at her two friends bickering in the doorway. They both simultaneously turned their heads to look at her, as if only now realising she was the reason they were there.

"Lord, you're like Tweedledum and Tweedledee… and do _not _ask me which one is 'Dum'. You are my dearest chums in the whole world and I love you, but right now you are totally doing my head in." Bella scowled at the girls, who merely rolled their eyes at her, before Lauren shut the door with her bottom and they both plonked themselves down on Bella's bed.

"Your _huuuusbaaand_, Mr Adonis Sexy Pants Cullen, is here," Lauren announced in a bored tone, although she was fooling no one. "Bloody hell, Bellend, he's hotter than a Mexican's sphincter. I thought he was sex on legs in a suit, but, oh my days, in ripped jeans and a t-shirt… ugh, I don't know how you can be in the same room as him and not rip all his clothes off and ride him like a Grand National champion. My poor vaj got so excited I thought I'd pee'd my pants."

She flopped back on the bed in a fake swoon… which was just as well, because Bella picked up the pig-shaped stress ball on her desk and hurled it at Lauren with rather more vehemence than was strictly necessary. It smacked into her headboard with a loud thump and bounced back to settle against Lauren's head. She immediately sat up and turned wide, astonished eyes at Bella.

Jess looked equally surprised, a frown creasing her forehead. "Steady on, old thing, that was a bit harsh."

Bella put her head in her hands, shaking it from side to side, as her friends watched her with concern.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and sat back in her chair. "I'm sorry, Laurie, I don't know what's wrong with me."

She shut her eyes, but seconds later she felt herself being enveloped in a tight embrace.

"It's okay, Belly. I'm sorry too. You know I was just messing about, don't you?" Lauren whispered in her ear, and all Bella could do was return the hug, knowing she would cry if she spoke.

Eventually, Lauren released her and straightened up, gently sweeping Bella's hair from her face.

Jessica spoke from the bed. "You gonna be okay, Bell?"

Bella took a shaky breath and gave her two friends a watery smile. "Yeah, I s'pose."

Lauren dropped to her knees next to her friend and squeezed her jean-clad thigh with both hands.

"Hey, you want me and Jess to go kick him in the nads for you?" she asked disingenuously.

Bella couldn't help but giggle, and smiled down at Lauren, before putting one arm round her shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

"God, I love you, you silly bint," she told her fiercely.

"So, that's a yes, then."

Laughing, Bella gave her another squeeze and pulled back.

"Well, as attractive as that offer is, I'm gonna have to pass on this occasion. Maybe some other time?"

"You've only got to say the word and we'll break out the Doc Martens!"

Bella winced a little and then looked at Jess. "So, he's here. What did he say to you?"

"Yeah, he just drove in as we were walking back from the village. He seemed to be under the impression that you were sick… so I just said you were lying down and I'd let you know he's here."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I might have said I had cramps."

"Ohh-kaay… well, it's nice you have that sort of relationship?" Jess wasn't sure what to think, her inflection making it more of a question than an observation.

Lauren gasped beside her. "Oh, crikey, Bell, if you've got the builders in, does that mean you won't be able to… you know… ride the beast with two backs, and all that? Or is he into the whole 'period sex' thing? Ewww… not sure I'd be up for rumpy if I was on, although I suppose you could give him a bl—"

"Oh, God, Laurie, do shut up, you minger. I haven't started my period—I was just trying to think of an excuse to stop him driving down here… and I am definitely _not_ going to have sex with him."

Bella jumped up and started brushing her hair furiously, trying not to think about sex with Edward.

"You say that, Bell, but I'll tell you what, if that man put any part of his sexy bod anywhere near mine, I'd be all 'take me, take me' and panting for it like an asthmatic bulldog, I swear to God."

"Well, it's lucky for him that he won't be going anywhere near the Venus flytrap you call a minge, isn't it," Jess laughed, relieved to see Bella's corresponding giggle in the mirror.

She turned around and looked at them both. "Right, will I do, do you think?"

They both nodded enthusiastically at Bella's choice of outfit—skinny, faded blue jeans and a white, open-mesh, sleeveless top over a dark blue lacy bra, teamed with high-heeled, lace-up ankle boots in navy suede.

"You look like the bee's bollocks, sweetie—he's gonna cum in his Calvin's when he sees you," Lauren announced, making Bella roll her eyes.

"That's not quite what I'm aiming for," she groaned, turning back to the mirror. "Do you think I should change? I don't want him to think…" She trailed off, not quite sure what she wanted him to think.

"_NO!_" they chorused.

Jess stepped to Bella's side, putting one arm around her shoulders. "You look fab, sweetie… and it does no harm to remind the stupid git what he's missing out on." She smiled at their reflections in the mirror, giving her another squeeze, before turning and retrieving Bella's tiny blue suede bag from her desk. She looped it over her head and across her body, making sure the strap lay neatly between her breasts, pulling in her top and accentuating her curves.

"There, all set. Come on, we'll walk downstairs with you. We left him in Reception. Oh, and you should probably be aware that I called him an arsehole when I spoke to him earlier."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Well, there's not much I can say to that… on the grounds that it's pointless to refute or object to a true statement."

Jess grinned at her. "'Atta girl, Bell," she told her, giving her a quick, one-armed hug.

They exited the room, each of Bella's friends taking an arm each so that they walked three abreast down the corridor to the staircase leading to Reception.

Lauren sniggered. "Do you think he's safe down there—I mean, did you see the way Carroty Cope was looking at him when we left him there? I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't enticed him into the infirmary on some pretext about you being sick as a parrot, then whacked him over the head with a hockey stick, dosed him with a cocktail of Rohypnol and Viagra and is, at this very moment, straddling him like Calamity Jane, whilst shouting 'yee-hah'!"

Bella and Jessica stopped at the top of the stairs and just stared at Lauren. Jess shook her head sadly. "I worry about you sometimes, Laurie, really I do."

"Bella?"

All three girls were immediately distracted from any and all thoughts of Edward's possible abduction and molestation, by the sight of the man himself at the bottom of the stairs, staring intently up at Bella, and looking every inch as hot as Lauren had described him.

* * *

**Translation:**  
"Got the builders in" – having one's period.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks to MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT  
**

Bella stared back, her eyes locked on his as everything but the man before her faded into the background, and it occurred to her that it was a lot like swimming under water.

"Bella?"

Suddenly, movement and sound flooded back into her consciousness, and she was aware someone was speaking to her.

Jess put her hand on Bella's shoulder, pulling her round to face her. "Bella? Do you want one of us to come with you?"

Shaking her head sharply to try and clear her mind, she looked at Jess blankly for a moment, before what she said finally registered.

"Uh, no, I'm fine." She went to turn back towards Edward again, realising she had already descended one step towards him, her need to be closer to him as fundamental and inexorable as the moon's tidal pull on the oceans.

Edward remained in place, still silently watching her, but then Lauren chose that moment to add her two pence worth. Leaving Bella's side, she sauntered down the stairs and stopped just one step above where Edward waited, and started to examine him in detail. After a few seconds of her close and obvious perusal, Edward's eyes finally shifted to her.

"What?" he snapped, somewhat disturbed by Lauren's antics.

Tapping her chin and looking thoughtful, Lauren regarded him for a moment longer before speaking.

"Hmm, I'm really starting to think that you're really not all that."

Edward arched one incredulous eyebrow, but remained silent.

"Yeah, now that I look closely, I can see that your eyes are wonky and you've got a lumpy nose… and, on top of all that, you're a gingernut!" she told him.

"Lauren!" Bella was aghast, as Edward dropped his head to hide the smirk which he was unable to hold back.

Jess rolled her eyes. "Oh, cock! Laurie, you muppet, let's get you out of here before you commit defamation of character, or something!"

She marched past Bella and grabbed hold of Lauren's arm, dragging her away. "Sorry, Edward, just ignore her, she hasn't taken her medication yet."

As she led her smirking friend away, she glanced back over her shoulder at Edward. "But you're still an arsehole." She looked back up at Bella. "Call if you need us, okay?"

Bella nodded as Jess and Lauren left. And then there was just her and Edward.

"Your friends hate me," Edward said quietly.

Bella moved down another step so that she was now just one above him, practically eye to eye.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is… you hurt me, they want to stick pins in a wax doll until you die a slow, horrible death," she deadpanned.

"Wow, that's… radical. Now I know what's causing the pain in my chest."

Bella gave him a slightly odd look. "No, I think they were aiming lower than that."

Edward winced. "I see, well I guess it's lucky I don't believe in voodoo, then."

"Yeah, whatever." Bella sidestepped him and walked towards the door. "Let's get this dog and pony show on the road, shall we? I've got stuff to do."

Edward sighed and turned to follow her. Clearly, Bella was in full truculent teen mode.

She was also, it had to be said, looking sexier and more beautiful than ever, and he could no more _drag his eyes away from her delectable ass than fly, as they made their way across the lobby and_ through the double doors.

Outside, Bella rolled her eyes when she spotted several girls milling aimlessly around or near Edward's car. They all perked up when they saw him emerge from the school behind Bella, a couple of them even waving and... _winking?_ Bella wanted to tell them all to bugger off because Edward was taken, but even if she had wanted to tell them the truth about her marriage, the fact remained that he wasn't taken… at least, not by her… not anymore.

She turned to see him glance at the assembled throng, which seemed to have the effect of making them close in on him—_like flies on shit_, Bella thought—causing her to clear her throat sharply and tap her watch.

"Tick, tock, Edward, tick, tock," she snarked.

He merely shrugged and unlocked the car, slipping on a pair of Ray-Bans and elegantly folding his long, lean frame in behind the wheel. As soon as he had checked that Bella had secured her seatbelt, he started the engine, peeled away and roared off down the drive.

"I'm glad to see you know how to please your groupies," Bella said after a few minutes silence.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint them," he responded, throwing a glance in her direction.

"Why not? After all, you disappoint me all the time."

Bella turned away and stared unseeingly out the passenger window.

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time this morning, Edward ran an agitated hand through his already ruffled hair.

"Come on, Bella, I don't want to fight with you. Can't we just… I don't know, can't we just let bygones be bygones?"

"Whatever." So soft, he barely heard it.

"Christ, Bella, what is it about teenage girls and this whole _'whatevah'_ thing? It drives me insane! Surely we're past all that nonsense."

Bella turned to look at him and he could feel her eyes on him. He thought she was going to remain silent, but when he let himself take a quick look at her, she shrugged and said, in a deliberately annoying voice, "What-_evah_."

Edward swore under his breath, but said nothing, although he was aware that Bella continued to look at him for at least a minute before eventually returning her gaze to the view from her window.

"How are you? Are you feeling better?" Edward asked, after the silence began to stretch uncomfortably.

"I'm fine. Where are we going?" She had only now realised that they were heading down the coast, away from Brighton.

"As it's such a beautiful day, I thought we could go to the Ginger Pig in Hove."

"The Ginger Pig? How do you know the Ginger Pig? And it's twenty minutes away, we don't have time. I thought we were just going to the Marina." Bella was conscious that her voice was taking on a slightly panicky tone, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't sure she could deal with spending so much time with Edward, away from her friends and her comfort zone of school.

"Jesus, Bella, I'm not trying to abduct you, I just want to take you for a nice lunch at a nice pub, where we can sit in the sunshine and talk."

"Lunch? I thought we were just having coffee. Edward, please, turn around! There's a Costa Coffee at the Marina we can go—"

"I'm not going to a fucking coffee shop at the Marina so you can drink it in five minutes and then run off back to school," he barked, making Bella swing around in alarm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why do you always do this?" he hissed, banging his hands on the steering wheel, before suddenly swerving to the left and pulling up on the side of the road.

"Do what?" she whispered, eyes wide as she stared at him.

Edward dropped his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes. When a minute, then two had passed, Bella started to think he wasn't going to say anything, but just as she was going to ask again, he rolled his head against the seat to look at her.

"This, Bella." He waved a hand between them. "You seem to have a talent for conjuring up an air of… conflict, where none existed." He turned his head away to stare out the windscreen.

"We haven't seen each other in months, and I know you resent me and the circumstances of our… parting, but I had thought that we could at least… be civil to one another. I thought maybe… well, that I might at least get the chance to tell you how sorry I am about… shit, about everything, I guess."

He sat up, turning slightly to look at her. For her part, Bella was pressed into the apex of her seat and the car door, her eyes fixed on her hands, which she was convulsively twisting and wringing in her lap.

"Bella—"

"I don't resent you," she whispered, before finally raising and turning her head to look at him. "I just… I thought…" She trailed off, turning away again to look out the passenger window.

"What did you think, Bella?"

She sighed, looking back at her hands. "Nothing… it doesn't matter." What she thought was that he had come to tell her he wanted a divorce. She hadn't expected him to want to apologise… she wasn't even sure what he was apologising for. Maybe she should wait and see what it was he wanted to say, although she didn't really hold out much hope that it would be something she wanted to hear.

She swallowed and took a deep breath before letting her gaze meet his again. He looked pained.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I don't mean to be difficult. I… let's just go to the pub."

He regarded her silently, his thoughts all over the place. Part of him wanted to accept what she'd said at face value, put the car in gear and head to the pub. Another, more insistent part wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss her deeply, and ask her again what she wanted… to tell her over and over again how sorry he was.

What Edward told himself he wanted was for Bella to be over him, so that he would have no choice but to suppress any romantic feelings he might have, because they would no longer be welcomed by her. It wouldn't lessen the feeling of loss, but it would, at least, convince him that he had been right to pursue this course. In the face of Bella's disinterest, his own feelings would surely wither and die, allowing them both to move on.

He turned away, contemplating the road ahead for a moment. He thought about Jane and about the phone calls they had exchanged since their dinner date. She had been sympathetic to his dilemma when he voiced his concerns about not wanting to railroad Bella into selling her birth right. He still hadn't told Jane about the marriage or the fact that he was no longer Bella's guardian—he wasn't exactly sure why that was—and he had, of course, said nothing about the emotions that raged within him when he thought about Bella. However, he believed his concerns were a legitimate and understandable subject to discuss with Jane and she had been more than willing to listen and was generous with her advice.

Just last night, when he had been sprawled on the bed in his hotel room, Jane had murmured encouraging and solicitous words to him. She made him believe he could do this—that he could see Bella and be cool and unemotional; that he could use his powers of persuasion to talk her into giving up Swan Publishing, thus relinquishing the final obstacle to their separation (he wouldn't even allow himself to think about divorce, telling himself there was no point even considering it until they had been married—and separated—for two years).

Now, though, faced with the reality of Bella, it was much harder to pretend that he could do this, that he could disregard everything that had happened between them and attempt to broker a deal which would separate her permanently from her father's legacy.

"Edward?"

Bella's soft voice pulled him out of his reverie and he brought his hands up to rub his face, as if the action might clear his mind of such thoughts, like some kind of neurological Etch-A-Sketch. Dropping his hands, he looked over at Bella, whose face was a mask of concern, making him want to reach over and touch her cheek, where he knew the skin would be silken warmth.

Instead, he gave her a quick smile, telling her he was fine as he reached over to start the car and quickly pulled back onto the road.

Ten minutes later, he drove into the car park of the large mock-Tudor building, expertly reversing the big sports coupé into a space near the entrance. He climbed out and walked quickly round to the passenger side, where Bella was already pushing her door open.

Edward scowled at her. "Will you just wait thirty seconds, woman!" he said, holding the door open and offering her his hand.

Bella rolled her eyes, swivelling round in her seat and unbending gracefully as she got out of the car, assiduously avoiding taking Edward's hand.

"Huh! Edward by name, Edwardian by nature," she sniped, preferring to use sarcasm to mask her fear of touching him, because she knew the resulting frisson had the power to render her stupid; she needed to keep her wits about her if she was going to get through this unscathed. As it was, he didn't move away when she got out of the car, and she found herself standing mere inches from him, so close she could smell the clean scent of his soap, his laundry detergent and his cologne, but underlying it, something more masculine… more _primal_. She wanted so much… so very, very much, to close the tiny distance between them and bury her face in his chest, to inhale that intoxicating scent, like a drowning woman taking precious gulps of air.

But she forced herself not to look at him or move closer, turning to move past him. She thought she heard him whisper something, but she just kept telling herself not to respond—that he would hurt her again, as he had hurt her every time she had given in to her craving for him. And she knew that each time she opened her heart to him, he sliced off yet another piece, trampling it into the dirt. If she kept letting him do it, she would end up with nothing left to give to anyone, summoning up a potential future for herself in which she found herself incapable of love, living a cold, empty existence, devoid of light or warmth.

Behind her, she heard the car door close and a moment later she felt Edward beside her. When they reached the door to the pub, he pulled it open, standing to one side to allow her to precede him into the bar. She sensed, rather than felt, his hand hovering at the small of her back, causing tingles of static energy to radiate up her spine.

Inside, the bar seemed cool and a little gloomy after the bright, sunlit warmth of the summer morning. At the bar, Edward ordered sparkling water to drink and food for them both, insisting that Bella should eat—despite her declared lack of appetite—when she admitted missing breakfast. They then found a secluded table in the large, enclosed garden at the back of the pub, which was still relatively quiet, and took their seats across from one another.

Edward made small talk, asking Bella about her exams, the subjects she was hoping to study at university, and other relatively safe topics until the waitress had brought their food.

"So, B, Italy. Are you all set?" he asked when they were once more alone.

Bella looked up at him suspiciously.

"Yeah, I suppose. Or we will be, once we've stowed all our stuff at Jess's and extracted what we want to take with us. Why?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "No need to sound so defensive. I was just making conversation. Tell me about where you'll be staying."

She looked at him speculatively for a moment before speaking.

"Well, as I think I told you, it's Lauren's parents' place, just south of Montepulciano. It's really beautiful—I think the main part was originally a convent, or something, dating back to, like, the fourteenth or fifteenth century. It's got four bedrooms, six bathrooms and this really cool indoor/outdoor pool with a wave machine, which opens out into a gorgeous walled garden. And it feels so quiet and isolated, but you go out the front door and you're practically right on top of Sarteano Town Square, with all these little boutiques and cafés, and amazing bakeries and confectioners… oh God, I always put on about a stone when we're there for any length of time.

"I love it there. We always have such a brilliant time, and Lauren's mum and dad are such a hoot. I was thinking that I wouldn't mind buying my own place somewhere nearby. Maybe not quite so big, but it would be great to have a Tuscan hideaway."

"So the Mallorys will be there at the same time then?"

"Um, well, no… at least, I think they're coming down for a long weekend in the middle, but for the rest of the time it'll just be me, Jess and Lauren."

Edward arched a single, sceptical eyebrow. "Three teenage girls, on their own in Italy, without any adult supervision?"

Bella dropped her fork noisily and sat back abruptly in her chair.

"What's up, Edward? Afraid we're going to invite the male population of the town for wild, drug-fuelled sex orgies?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If we wanted to do that, we would have booked a package deal to Ibiza."

Edward gave her a pained look and leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table and cover his face with his hands. In truth, he had harboured some concerns about the whole drink, drugs and sex scene that girls Bella's age could get involved in. He was also very conscious that if that's what she and her friends were looking for, they could find it very easily in any one of a hundred holiday destinations other than a villa in a quiet Tuscan town.

"Can I not just be concerned about your safety and welfare, in my capacity as your friend, your former guardian and, well, not to put too fine a point on it… your husband?"

Bella sighed, and looked away, her eyes falling on a young couple in the opposite corner who were clearly in love and happy to show it with both their eyes and their hands. She frowned and turned back to Edward.

"I suppose—but it's pretty hypocritical to pull the 'husband' card. And you really have nothing to worry about. We did actually consider going to Ibiza or Spain, or somewhere like that, but, for a start, there's no point until I catch up with Jess and Lauren and turn eighteen, and secondly, none of us can stand the thought of spending two weeks with a horde of horny, drunken northerners, all intent on drinking until they vomit, whose only aim for the entire two weeks of their holiday is to shag anything with a pulse. It's utterly vulgar and not my idea of fun."

Edward snorted with surprise, an amused look gradually lightening his face.

"Well, well—Bella Swan, I do believe you're a snob," he teased.

She straightened in her chair, giving him a withering look, which only served to amuse him further.

"If wanting to act like civilised human beings with a modicum of self-respect, instead of a bunch of stupid, shameless old slappers makes me a snob, then so be it."

"Quite right, too," Edward chuckled, feeling more than relieved that his girl was, indeed, a lady.

Bella watched him, glad he seemed to have shaken off his sour mood, and decided that there would be no point in telling him that, although she and her friends were all looking forward to spending time at the villa in Sarteano, they had already made plans to spend two or three nights in Rimini, on the east coast, and also in Rome in the south with Jessica's brothers and their friends, where they fully intended to let their hair down. Plus, of course, they would all rather spend time fending off sexy Italian men than pasty, drunken Brits with sunburn.

No, on balance, she felt that, on this subject, ignorance was bliss as far as Edward was concerned.

After a while, in the face of Edward's amusement, Bella could no longer maintain her own anger. He was so beautiful when he smiled… of course, he was incredibly handsome regardless of his mood, and when he was angry, he was unbelievably hot. But right now, as Bella regarded the man sitting across from her, she found it impossible not to fall under his spell, yet again.

In this new relaxed atmosphere, they began to talk more openly. Edward told her about the various papers she would be required to sign and what they meant. He encouraged her to raise any and all concerns she might have with her lawyer, and talked about her inheritance, the business and many other matters. He was impressed with the questions she asked and her knowledge of market forces and how the economy was affecting the publishing world.

He didn't mention Jane's proposal.

Dessert was served—and shared—and coffees were ordered. And still they talked. The pub restaurant filled up and then emptied. More coffee was brought and some cheese and biscuits. And still they talked.

With business matters pretty much concluded, there was a break in conversation. But the silence was heavy with things unsaid. Stirring his coffee, Edward found himself with only one thought in mind—_come back to the hotel with me._

All thoughts of Jane or her proposal were now furthest from his mind.

Conscious that their time together always seemed to be overlaid with opportunities missed and words unspoken, Edward pushed his coffee to one side and reached across the table to where Bella's hands were clasped around her own cup.

She watched, seemingly mesmerised, as he took hold of her left hand in his right, turning it palm up and rubbing his thumb across her ring finger, their eyes glued to the movement, until Edward looked up.

"I've missed you, B."

"Edward—"

"No, let me finish… please. I… My behaviour in New York was… unforgivable—"

"Which bit, Edward? The part where you shagged me senseless, or the part where you treated me like a tart and sent me packing?" Despite the ease of the last couple of hours, this sudden _volte face_ of Edward's took Bella by surprise, and she couldn't altogether disguise the bitterness in her voice.

Edward winced, but didn't let go of her hand. He realised, in that moment, that he was done with all the bullshit. He had been utterly deluded to think that he could move on from Bella, that Jane would be an adequate replacement. It had been easier to fool himself when he was in New York and Jane was willing and available, and full of seemingly great ideas for the future. But with Bella in front of him… actually here in the same room with him, he knew that he could no more give her up than he could ask her to give up Swan Publishing.

"I deserve that." He put his other hand over hers, effectively sandwiching it between both of his own, and pulled it closer to him.

"A lot's changed over the last few months, Bella. I've had a lot of time to think about things, and I want you to know that—"

A loud car alarm went off nearby, shrieking into their quiet haven from round the corner in the car park.

"Shit!" Edward leapt up so abruptly his chair, with the weight of his jacket hanging on the back, fell over with a loud clatter. "That's my car. I'll be right back."

And with that he swiftly walked away, leaving Bella in a state of shock.

_What the hell was he going to say?_

Shaking her head, she stood up and walked around the table to pick up Edward's chair and his jacket from the floor. As she did so, his phone fell out of the pocket at the precise moment the screen lit up with an incoming text message from someone called 'Jane'.

Bella frowned and went to put the phone back in his jacket pocket, but then it vibrated and lit up again.

She would often wonder later why she did what she did next. She knew she had no right to know who Jane was, or to read her private text messages to Edward, but without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she swiped her thumb over the screen to unlock it and tapped the message inbox.

**Darling, just wondered if you've had a chance to speak to Isabella yet about our offer. x**

Bella stared at the text as if it was written in a foreign language, trying to decipher what it could mean. She opened the second text, hoping for enlightenment.

**Have you given her a ballpark? If she's willing to sell, give me a call asap and we can start working out a deal.**

Despite her initial confusion, Bella knew what she was looking at—she just didn't want to believe it.

"Bella?"

She quickly and surreptitiously returned the phone to Edward's jacket pocket and then turned to see him standing behind her, a quizzical look on his face.

"I was, uh, just picking up your jacket. Um, look, Edward, it's getting late—I really didn't expect to be out so long and I need to get back to finish packing. And I can feel a massive headache coming on. Could we please just go now?"

Edward frowned. "There are still things we need to discuss… things I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Yeah, I know… I just… I really need to get back, Edward—I can't leave Jess and Laurie on their own to do everything. Please take me back."

Edward detected a tremulousness in Bella's voice—an indication that she was close to tears, and he wondered what the hell could have happened in the few minutes he'd been gone—time wasted, as it turned out, as there was nothing wrong with the damned car.

"Are you okay?"

She merely nodded, sure now that further speech would result in tears.

Edward sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "We never seem to resolve anything, do we, B?"

She shook her head and walked towards the exit, handing him his jacket as she passed.

Outside, she waited by the car whilst Edward paid the bill, silently getting in when he emerged and released the central locking. She was silent on the short drive back to the school, keeping her gaze fixed firmly and unseeingly on the landscape flashing past her passenger window.

When Edward brought the car to a smooth halt outside the main doors of the school, Bella rushed to get out, but he reached out quickly to grab her arm and stop her.

"Bella, please. What's wrong? Talk to me."

She dropped back into her seat, but still couldn't bring herself to look at him. She knew she should tell him about the texts, but couldn't bring herself to say anything… just couldn't bear to hear him tell her he wanted to eradicate her from his life so comprehensively, and, in the process, attempt to take away from her everything she held dear. She could only assume that's what he'd been building up to say when his car alarm went off. Despite his protestation that he missed her, it seemed to be the only logical explanation.

Taking a deep breath and summoning up her last remaining reserves of fortitude and self-respect, she glanced over at him, but knew she wouldn't be able to maintain eye contact.

"I'm just tired, Edward. It's been a really long couple of days and I've got a shedload of stuff to do before I can go to bed, and we're leaving early tomorrow, so you'll have to excuse me. I'll call you tomorrow. I just… need to go… please?"

Edward knew there was no point pushing it, that he'd lost any impetus he'd gained earlier—for what reason, he could not divine.

"Okay, Bella, I'll let you go. And… I'm sorry if I did something to upset you."

Again, she could only nod, before opening the door and climbing out. Edward quickly opened his own door and got out, striding around the front to capture Bella's hand before she could get away.

She gasped as he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close.

"Bella… please just promise me you'll take care of yourself. That you'll be careful when you go to Volterra," he murmured into her hair.

She wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace… to be utterly and completely subsumed by him, but she knew she needed to protect herself. Hardening her heart, she pulled away, extricating herself from his hold.

"I promise, okay? Gotta go, I'll call you," she told him, hoping he would be placated by her assertion. She risked a last look at his beautiful face, only to be confused by the look in his eyes, one of almost… longing?

Before she could analyse it further, she turned and ran up the steps into the building, leaving Edward standing in the driveway, watching as she disappeared through the door and wondering what the hell had happened.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, Mauigirl60, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar - you're the best.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

Jessica looked at Bella with concern. "What happened? What did he do?"

They were sitting on the floor of Jess's room, which was awash with boxes. She had come straight there to find her friends, although Lauren was absent, having gone into Brighton earlier. Dropping gracelessly down to the ground next to where Jess was sorting through a pile of papers, Bella sighed deeply and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to talk about it or ruin their last night at school, but she realised she couldn't face a night of celebration.

She shook her head and looked at Jess. "Nothing… it's nothing. I'm just so bloody tired. Do you mind if I don't go into Brighton tonight, I really can't face it."

Her friend nodded but continued to look at her. After a moment, she seemed to come to a decision.

"No, I don't mind. Hey, how about we just throw as much as we can pack now in the van and head home tonight? Start the holiday right now?"

Bella glanced up at Jessica with a frown. "But what about Laurie?"

At that moment, the door burst open and in walked the girl herself. "What about me?" she asked.

"We were just thinking—Brighton's going to be such a drag tonight, with most of the bloody sixth form prancing around, drunk as sacks, so why don't we just bugger off tonight?" Jess responded on both their behalves.

Lauren looked between her two friends, suspecting that there was more to this than either was saying—undoubtedly something involving a certain Edward Scrotebag Cullen, but she didn't press it.

"No can do, Jizzle, Pa's coming to pick me up in the morning. But, look, why don't you two head off this evening, I'll finish up here tonight and come on up to Fulmer on Monday?"

Before Jessica could reply, Bella shook her head. "No, we can't just ask you to finish all the packing and leave you on your own, Laurie… shit, I'm just making a mess of everything again, and ruining our last night—"

Jess leaned over to rub her shoulder. "Listen, Bell, none of that matters. Most of our stuff is already packed and stowed in the van. It's just clothes and personal bits and bobs, and what we can't get packed today, Laurie will sort out, won't you," she said, looking up at Lauren, who simply nodded her head, "or we can come back next week to pick it up. We've practically finished our rooms anyway, so it's really only yours, and what we don't take now, she can easily get it in the back of her dad's Land Rover."

She looked again at Lauren. "You don't mind bringing it up with you when you come up on Monday, do you?

Lauren shook her head. "Oh, oh, and if you two aren't around to cramp my style, I think I'll go to that party at the Marina. Davina said she's going and that her brother's coming down for it as well—you remember him? Hairy back and short legs, but looks like he might go like a steam train? I rather fancy I could persuade him to give me a quick knee-trembler, if I play my cards right… and spike his drink with voddie!" She grinned from ear to ear.

Bella couldn't help but smile at her friend, who she knew was trying to make her feel better about leaving early, and that smile told Jess that she was ready to agree to leave immediately. Throwing a grateful look at Lauren, she put her arm around Bella's shoulders and squeezed her.

"Come on, sweetie, it'll be fun. Jules and Xander are already home from uni and Mummy says they've brought a couple of friends, so it's going to be brilliant, you'll see. And you wouldn't want Lobz to miss out on that knee-trembler with Guy the Gorilla, would you?"

This time she couldn't prevent the laugh from bursting out of her. However, she made one last stab at trying to come up with a reason not to leave. "But what about Banjax? Are we allowed to just walk out before Wednesday?"

"What's she gonna do—expel us?! Look, if worse comes to worst, we can always come back on Monday, or I'll get mummy to call her. It'll be fine, I promise. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I reckon this is going to be a million times better than clubbing in Brighton, where we'd likely end up fighting over the one straight man in town. Oh, come on, Bell, let's do it!"

Bella smiled at her friend. It did sound like it might be fun—Jessica's twin brothers, Julian and Alexander, were great guys, and her parents were like Bella's surrogate mother and father, so with Lauren coming up from Hampshire on Monday, she could sort out all her stuff, get her holiday packing done and they could all hang out and party at Jessica's before leaving for Italy. If anything would cheer her up and take her mind off Edward's betrayal, that would. She nodded, forcing a smile to her face and relaxing for the first time since she'd read those blasted texts.

**~o0o~**

Edward, of course, was a good deal less relaxed.

Three quarters of the way back to London, he had pulled into a service station to fill the tank, get a coffee and check his messages. What he saw horrified him. Two texts from Jane—and he just knew that Bella had seen them. It was the only explanation for her sudden change of mood.

Two minutes later, his coffee forgotten, he was back on the motorway, flooring the accelerator to get to the next exit as fast as possible in order to turn around and head back to Brighton.

An hour later, having got caught in the Saturday afternoon snarl-up on the M23, he tore up the drive of Roedean, and practically threw himself out of the car. Inside, when he had finally found Bella's room, he was greeted by the sight of Lauren taping up boxes in an almost empty space, almost denuded of personal belongings.

She looked up in surprise as he burst through the door.

"Bloody hell, Edward, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Wild-eyed, Edward peered around the room , as if Bella might be hiding under the bed or in the wardrobe.

"Where is she?" he barked.

She gave him a speculative look. "Not here, Edward, as you can see. She and Jess left already, as Jules and Xander are home for the hols and they decided to get a jump on the party season."

"_What?!"_ Edward couldn't understand what Lauren was telling him. Who the fuck were Jules and Xander?

"Who the fuck are Jules and Xander?" he blurted.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Jess's brothers? They're down from Oxford? For the hol-i-days?"

He narrowed his eyes at her patronising tone—and the thought of two young college boys hanging out… _partying_ with Bella.

"And where would 'home' be?" he snapped.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm not sure I want to tell you," Lauren replied airily.

He had always regarded Lauren as something of a dumb blonde, but was now starting to realise she was anything but. Her studied foolery was, on closer examination, just a façade, beneath which lay a sharp-witted young woman who was clearly ferociously loyal to her friends. He decided to change tack.

"Lauren, please, will you just tell me where they're going? It's really, _really_ important that I speak to Bella."

Lauren merely glanced at Edward, quirking an eyebrow, before resuming her packing.

"Lauren, I'm begging you. You have to tell me." Edward hated to beg, and couldn't remember a time before Bella when he'd ever done it, even when his mother left, but since that fateful day back in late March, he seemed to have made a habit of it. He was straining to keep his temper under control, but the girl's intransigence was proving to be a major challenge.

Lauren deposited another pile of books in one of the boxes and straightened up to look at him.

"Actually, Edward, I don't have to tell you. And quite honestly, I think it's a jolly poor show that after all these years, you still haven't a clue where Bella's friends live—her _best_ friends, mind you. If you'd taken the slightest interest in her life you would at least know where Jess lives, seeing as her parents have practically raised Bella since her own died. She would have stayed with me more often, but my ma and pa are frightful loons… but that's neither here nor there. Give me one good reason why I should tell you anything, considering that she was clearly upset about something when she got back from having lunch with you."

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a very pointed look.

But what could he say to make her give him the information he needed?

_Because I care deeply for Bella?_

_Because I want to give our fledgling relationship a chance?_

_Because I miss her?_

_Because I lo—_

_Wait, what the fuck! The L-word, Edward? Seriously?_

But now that he'd allowed the sneaky little thought to take up residence in his head, it didn't take long for it to gain ground. He tried to tell himself it was ludicrous—that just this morning he was still thinking that he should cut his losses and pursue a relationship with Jane.

But that, of course, was before he saw Bella again. Before he revelled in her sparkling and intelligent wit and infectious laughter. Before he touched her and felt that frisson that never seemed to abate between them. Before he inhaled her delectable and addictive scent. And before he looked upon that stunning, perfect, beautiful face, and was assaulted by all the memories of being with her, feeling her naked, silken skin against his… being above her, and beneath her… being inside her.

Did he love her? _Could_ he love her? He had no benchmark, no touchstone, and his thoughts raged within him as he considered Lauren's question.

He suddenly smiled ruefully to himself as he realised he could no longer deny his feelings. The fact was that if he told Lauren that he loved Bella, she would likely tell him what he wanted to know. But there was no way he could reveal such a thing to her, not because it wasn't true—he was very much afraid that it was—but because the first person to hear those words from him had to be Bella.

So, Catch-22.

"Something amusing you about this utter debacle you've created?" Lauren's expression made it clear that she found nothing funny about it.

Edward sighed and shook his head. "No, Lauren, there is nothing remotely humorous about this… this…" he lifted his arms and then dropped them again in a gesture of resignation, "… this total _clusterfuck_._" _He looked at her with an air of such desperation and hopelessness that Lauren found herself softening towards this beautiful man who apparently didn't know how to love.

"Oh, Edward, you ridiculous man. How could you be so gorgeous and clever and successful, and yet be such a cretin where women are concerned?"

He shrugged, a slight blush warming his pale features as he ran a hand agitatedly through his already tousled locks. "I don't know, Lauren, I just… _fuck!_ Won't you help me make this right… please?"

She gazed at him for a moment, a contemplative frown creasing her brow. After about a minute, during which time Edward's hair came under ever more violent attack, she seemed to make up her mind.

"Okay, look—I'm not going to tell you where she is right now. Besides, if you really wanted to find her, you probably could without my help. But I'm asking you not to." She held up her hand to forestall Edward's inevitable objection. "You need to give her some space, Edward. I don't know what happened between you today, but whatever it was seems pretty serious—"

Edward sighed. "She thinks I'm conspiring with someone else to buy her out of SP—but she's wrong, and I need a chance to explain. Nothing could be further from the truth right now."

"Hmm, well, I suppose I'll believe you—thousands wouldn't! I don't know what to say to you. I think she's very hurt and really, really angry at the moment, so I doubt she'll want to hear anything you've got to say. You'll just have to give her time…"

She paused, watching Edward's increasingly frantic pacing. When he realised she was no longer talking, he stopped and turned to face her, a little wild-eyed, both hands fisted in his hair.

"Jesus, what am I going to do? What if she never talks to me again…? What if… Christ, what if she doesn't even care anymore?" He stared at her, internally cursing himself for revealing his desperation to this girl he hardly knew, but unable to stop himself.

Lauren looked at him with ill-disguised irritation.

"Hell's teeth, Edward, I don't know! I'm the irrational, moody teenager here—you're supposed to be the pigging adult. Sort yourself out," she told him, thoroughly exasperated.

He gaped at her in astonishment. And then he chuckled, which quickly turned into a full blown laugh.

When he finally got himself under control, he shook his head and looked at her speculatively. "You are so right, Lauren. You know, I have seriously underestimated you—you come across as a complete clown… did you know that? But you are anything but. I will need to keep that in mind for the future."

Lauren suddenly looked appalled, holding up both hands. "No, no, you just stick to your original assessment… think of me like… someone with Alzheimer's who occasionally has moments of lucidity—don't expect it to last."

Edward laughed again. "You don't fool me, your Ladyship. I think you cultivate an image of an upper class twit—for what reason, I can't imagine."

She scowled at him. "Okay, first of all, I'm not a Lady—well, not in the way you mean. Pa's just a lowly baronet, so I only qualify as an Honourable—Ma's the Lady with a capital L. And secondly, if I find out you've been spreading malicious rumours that I'm cleverer than I look, I will hunt you down, tie you to a chair and force feed you kedgeree three times a day for a month… hmm, that sounds a bit pervy, actually… scratch that… I'll have to think of something else. Maybe I'll just invite you to my house for the weekend and then leave you to the tender mercies of Pa—he thinks all Americans are either gangsters or cowboys, or, in extreme cases which he can't easily categorize, gay—or nancy boys, as he prefers to call them. I'm guessing he might put you in the latter category… not that he's homophobic or anything—he always loves to tell anyone who will listen that he was buggered senseless at school, but that it made a man of him!"

Edward was now laughing unrestrainedly, despite his earlier desperation. He grabbed Lauren by her upper arms, giving her a little shake.

"Stop, Lauren, for the love of God, you're killing me here." He grinned down at her and, after her initial surprise that Edward was touching her, he was rewarded with a rueful smile.

"Sorry, old thing, I tend to rattle on a bit. Ma says I've got the brains of a rocking horse, which is probably about right. But pa's a silly old sod, and if he thinks you've upset Bella, who he's rather fond of, he might just shoot first and ask questions later!

"Right-oh, then… much as it's been absolutely divine seeing you again—especially with that whole GQ metrosexual chic thing you've got going on there—I really need to get on and you need to bugger off before Carroty Cope finds you in here… although it'd almost be worth it, just for the kudos of being the only Roedean girl to be caught with Sex Machine Cullen in her room… except, technically, of course, it's not my room, it's Bella's, but I can work with it… What?" She frowned at Edward's obvious amusement.

"Probably best if you stop talking now, Lauren. Besides, I thought you'd decided I wasn't—how did you put it?—_all that! _Anyway, I'm going to leave you to it, but… could I please just ask one thing of you?" His smile faded as his expression became serious, his gaze full of unspoken need. "Just… tell her… shit, I don't know… just say—"

"I'll tell her what you told me, okay? And then it's up to her what she does with that information."

Just at that moment, two excitable teenage girls crowded into the doorway, giggling loudly.

"Laurie, ohmygod, did you hear that Sexy Pants Cullen has been rampaging—_oh!"_

The one who had spoken stopped abruptly, her mouth hanging open when she saw who was in the room with Lauren.

Edward glanced over at the short, skinny blonde and her companion, who appeared to be a clone in terms of stature, clothing and expression, a cocked a quizzical eyebrow. Barely able to contain his laughter, he turned back to Lauren with a wink. Then, ignoring the dual gasps to his left, he smiled at Lauren, put his hand up to grasp her upper arm, then leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, lingering just a little longer than might be considered appropriate. The gasps were, rewardingly, even louder, and Edward couldn't help smiling against Lauren's skin.

Straightening up, he glanced again at the two strangers, then back to Lauren. "Gotta go, babe."

Lauren nodded, affecting a blasé expression. "Okay, sweet-cheeks, drive safe," she said nonchalantly.

Edward quirked an eyebrow at her endearment but said nothing else, turning to where the two girls stood in the doorway, eyes like saucers and mouths agape.

"Excuse me, ladies," Edward murmured, practically having to manhandle their almost inert bodies to get out. But finally he was through the door and heading down the passage to the front stairs, smirking and shaking his head as loud squeals rang out behind him.

**~o0o~**

An hour later, Edward sat nursing a black coffee at the Pease Pottage service station, deciding to take a break before getting back on the motorway to London. He was using the time to check his phone messages again, irritably working his way through the four that Jane had left after the disastrous timing of her first two texts.

He was so furious with her. For her ill-timed interruption of his lunch with Bella, and the subsequent clusterfuck of Bella's departure from school and, to all intents and purposes, from his life. For putting the idea of buying Bella out of SP into his head in the first place. For being pushy and ambitious. For being the cause of the hurt and betrayal Bella was no doubt feeling. For coming between him and what he now realised was his heart's desire.

But it was her final message which really infuriated him.

**I guess ur busy, hopefully with making a deal with IS, so will let you get on with it and wait to hear. X**

_Maybe you should have thought about that before, you stupid bitch!_

Edward knew it was irrational to be so angry with Jane, especially considering his own complicity in the events which had led up to this moment, but he found it very difficult not to be. Over and over, he berated himself for not turning his phone off before meeting with Bella. It was almost like karma decided to give him an almighty kick in the balls—for what reason he couldn't fathom, unless it was to punish him for his previous treatment of Bella.

And now she was somewhere where he couldn't reach her—at least, not easily—his fate now languishing in the hands of a teenaged, self-proclaimed dingbat.

Shaking his head, he looked back down at his phone, before starting to input a text.

**Your timing could not have been worse and the deal is fucked. Am leaving Brighton and will call you later when I get back to London.**

He read it over and then, after a moment's hesitation, pressed 'send'. He then went into another message string and started typing again.

**I know you think you hate me right now, and if what you believe to be true actually was true then I wouldn't blame you, but it's not and if you let me explain we can hopefully put all this behind us and start again. x**

Again, he read over the message before pressing 'send,' hoping that, at some point, Bella would turn her phone back on. He had left a couple of other messages and a voicemail, but now decided to take Lauren's advice and give Bella some space. Against his better judgement, he was going to put his trust in the girl to tell Bella what he'd told her, and to give her the space she needed.

He put his phone back in his jacket pocket and drained his cup. Ten minutes later, he was back on the road, the big sports car streaking through the shimmering heat of late afternoon, London- bound.

**~o0o~**

Also on the road, Jessica and Bella were making good time to Buckinghamshire, as Bella had urged her friend not to stop for bathroom or refreshment breaks. She knew it was irrational, but she just couldn't bear the thought of stopping before they reached Jessica's home town of Penn.

Something else she couldn't bear the thought of right now was talking about what had happened between her and Edward. Being the good friend she was, Jess didn't press her, allowing the dance music on her iPod to fill the van's cab.

All that kept going round and round in Bella's mind was a single question: _How could he do this to me?_ And no matter how many times she processed it, or how many different angles she tried to view it from, the only answer she could come up with was that he must be desperate to be rid of her, desperate to sever any connection between them. And clearly he'd already moved on—both from her and from Tanya. It would seem that neither Tanya's two years' commitment, nor a marriage certificate were enough to hold Edward. Perhaps this Jane person had the right idea, as it now seemed clear that money was the way to Edward's heart.

She couldn't help wondering how she could have been so stupid. Even when Edward vacillated wildly between lust and indifference, she had persuaded herself that he must feel something for her, that his obvious arousal when they'd slept together meant that he was, at the very least, attracted to her. But now she had to wonder if he even liked her very much. After all, it didn't take him long to transfer his affections—and his loyalties—to another woman. Money talks, indeed.

So pre0ccupied with her thoughts was she, that she barely noticed when Jess turned off the quiet road and stopped in front of a massive pair of highly-decorative wrought iron gates. She rolled down her window and pressed the button on a grey metal box fixed to a metal pole, before waving at a CCTV camera positioned atop one of the gate stanchions. A few seconds later, the gates automatically swung open to allow them to proceed up the long drive to the large, early Victorian mansion Jess called home.

**~o0o~**

Later that night, they were all hanging out in the large family room, following dinner. Earlier, there had been a chaotic welcome from Jessica's mother and brothers, as well as several dogs, plus introductions to her brothers' friends, Miles, Sebastian and Rufus. Like Xander and Jules, all seemed to be either rowers or rugby players—or both—as every one of them towered over the two diminutive girls. But Bella likened them to over-excited puppies that you just had to keep in check, lest they peed on the carpet. And it was endlessly amusing to witness Jess's mum, Lydia, who was as petite as her daughter, wield such control with a softly spoken "Now, now, boys, _decorum in omnia_, if you please," and watch as they all immediately quietened down, mumbling sheepish apologies.

But, lord, they were exhausting to be around, particularly as they treated Bella like a shiny new toy. The brothers' friends tended to be a little more circumspect around Jess, some sort of unspoken rule operating whereby it was seen as jolly bad form to hit on one's friends' sister… at least, in front of her brothers.

Sebastian, in particular, hung on Bella's every utterance, following her around, vying for—and winning—the seat next to her at dinner, and generally coming over as a chap who would take a bullet for her, if required. It was sweet, somewhat endearing—and, after two hours of it—hugely irritating. So when, just after 11.00PM, Jess suggested that she and Bella retreat to her room to Skype Lauren, Bella jumped at the chance to escape the somewhat overwhelming attention.

Up in Jessica's bedroom, she set up her laptop and logged into Skype. She had texted Lauren when they got to the house, just to let her know they had arrived safely and would call later, so she was obviously similarly set up and answered almost immediately, her face quickly popping up on the screen.

"Hey, mingers, how was the homecoming?" Lauren greeted them.

"Oh, you know, five unfeasibly tall, muscle-bound Oxford Blues, all milling around Bellend, like a pack of foxhounds in a field with one tree—all trying to impress the pants off her… literally!" Jess laughed.

Bella gasped and punched her on the arm. "Shut up, minger! Honestly, Lobz, she is such a liar. Talk about the pot calling the kettle grimy-arsed. You should have seen her—at one point I thought she was going to lick this guy Rufus's face, like a floppity old Labrador—ouch!"

Bella cringed away from Jessica's slaps, giggling uncontrollably, but then both girls' attention was drawn to a loud whiney noise from the computer screen.

"Awwwwh, I wanna lick a Rufus, it's not faaairrrrr! I'm all on my own in this empty room, with just Lumpy Botty-Hacksaw for company and every time she speaks to me, I can feel my IQ leaking out of my ears—and God knows I can't afford to lose any." She gave them a comical clown-frown, which made them both giggle, but they could tell that she wasn't really exaggerating, as behind her all they could see were bare walls and boxes, the bed seeming to be almost the only piece of furniture remaining.

Jess frowned. "But what about the party? Didn't you at least get a boob grope?"

"Ugh, it was frightful. Oh Lord, and you were so right about Guy the Gorilla—hell's teeth, he even had hairy hands. And I just knew, if he dropped his pants, he'd be so hairy down there that his meat and two veg would look like Fagin's face in that old black and white version of Oliver Twist… yuk!"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. But don't worry, we'll get you a Rufus," Jess cooed, putting her hand out to stroke Lauren's image on the screen.

Lauren's face lit up with a bright smile. "Ooh, can I have a swarthy Italian Rufus, with nimble fingers and come-to-bed eyes?"

"Absolutely, old thing—we'll get right on that the moment we hit the mean streets of Tuscany," Jess chuckled in response.

"Good-oh! So, anyway, how are you, Bell? Feeling a bit better?"

Bella swallowed painfully. Jess's family and friends had been a massive distraction over the last two or three hours, refusing to allow her even a few minutes to wallow, but now that Lauren had brought her back to the here and now, the events of the afternoon came crashing back down on her and she had to bite her lower lip hard to keep it from trembling. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak but, to her dismay, found that the tears were too close to the surface. A loud sob was her only verbal utterance, before she started crying uncontrollably, unable to articulate a single word.

Jessica's arms immediately encircled her and pulled her close as her body was wracked with sobs, tears falling in torrents down her pale cheeks.

"Oh, B, I'm so sorry… oh, sweetie, I didn't mean to make you cry…" Lauren was beside herself, feeling guilty for having made her friend cry, and feeling equally helpless because she couldn't be there to offer physical comfort.

Jess looked up over Bella's head, smiling sadly at her friend sitting in an empty room some seventy-odd miles away.

"_You_ didn't make her cry, Laurie. God, I could just punch Edward—all he ever bloody does is make her cry, the git!"

"Bell? Hey, please don't cry, sweetie." Lauren's soft plea seemed to soothe Bella and she straightened, pulling gently away from Jessica's embrace, sniffing noisily. Jess leaned over to her bedside table and grabbed the small box of tissues sitting there, holding them in front of Bella so she could blow her nose and wipe her face. After a moment, she took yet another deep breath, which seemed to work, because, although her voice was a little shaky, she was at least able to get the words out this time.

"Sorry, sweetie, I don't know where that came from. I thought I was okay."

Lauren sighed. "So, maybe I shouldn't tell you what happened after you left then."

Bella looked up sharply. "What? What do you mean?"

"Are you sure you want to know, B?"

"Just spit it out, Lobz."

"Well, about an hour or so after you left, Edward turned up and found me in your room—"

"_WHAT?!"_ the two girls shouted at the screen.

"He said that you'd seen a message from someone—I can't remember if he told me who—saying something about buying you out of your company. Something about you thinking he was in cahoots with this person, but that it wasn't true, and that he could explain."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Ha, yeah, that's what they all say… _'I can explain, I didn't mean to put my knob in that woman, it just accidentally slipped in when I tripped and fell on top of her.'_ God, men!"

Bella just shook her head, looking down at the bedspread and picking at a loose thread. She looked up when she heard her name being called from the laptop screen.

"He did seem genuinely upset, sweetie," Lauren told her gently. "And, for what it's worth, it seemed like he was being honest when he said it wasn't true… that he wasn't in on the deal. Has he called?"

Bella stared at her for a moment, frowning, and then shook her head. "I turned my phone off."

"Well, I told him he should leave you be for the moment, give you some space, but maybe he's texted you or something," Lauren said.

"Yeah, maybe," she responded dully.

Jess put her arm round Bella's shoulders. "Where's your phone, sweetie? Do you want to check?"

Bella didn't respond at first, continuing to worry at the bedspread.

"B?"

Seeming to make up her mind she glanced at Jessica's worried face, and then at Lauren's via the screen.

"No, I don't want to check. Right now, there's nothing Edward can say that I want to hear. Maybe I'll change my mind tomorrow… or next week… but right now, I just want to go to bed. If he's serious about giving me some space, then he can do just that and I'll deal with him when I can face it."

She pushed herself off the bed, brushing her hand across the computer screen. "I'm sorry I left you to deal with all that crap, Laurie, and I hope I can make it up to you some time. I'm going to bed now—I'm cream-crackered. See you on Monday."

She leaned down and hugged Jess, kissing her on the top of the head as she withdrew. "See you in the morning, sweet pea."

"Yeah, okay. Try and get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow."

Bella flashed her a sad smile and waved to Lauren. "Night-night, Laur, sleep tight."

"You too, honey—and there's nothing to make up to me, you doughnut, it's what friends do for each other." Lauren blew her a kiss, and then Bella was gone, slipping next door to her own room, one she had stayed in many, many times in the past. As she opened the door, she heard another door down the hall open with a creaking sound, and Jules' head popped out.

"Hey, Swan… you okay?" he called softly.

She smiled and nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm okay, Jules… at least, I will be."

She thought he would say goodnight and go back in, but instead, he emerged fully and walked towards her.

"Hmm, I thought you seemed a bit down. What happened… boyfriend problems?"

Bella chuckled humourlessly. "Oh, Jules, if only it were that simple," she replied, feeling her traitorous lip starting to wobble as her eyes became glassy with unshed tears.

"Hey, hey, hey," he soothed, stepping forward and enveloping her in his massive arms, her head barely reaching his chest.

She wrapped her arms as far round his big, muscular body as she could—which wasn't far—and, just for a moment, revelled in the comfort of his strong embrace.

"Whoever he is, Bellybean, just say the word and I'll go crush his nads for you," he murmured against the top of her head.

She sob-giggled, and squeezed him hard. "Thanks, Jules," she whispered, before slowly extricating herself from his arms.

He looked down at her, then reached up a hand to brush away an errant tear with his thumb. "Anything for my Juicy's bezza, you know that," and Bella couldn't help smiling at the childhood nickname for his sister.

Looking up at his handsome, open face, topped with a mop of wild, blond hair, Bella wondered why she couldn't have fallen for Jessica's sweet, kind sibling, whom she'd known almost as long as she'd known Edward. But he and his twin were just like big brothers to her, and she knew she could never feel for either of them—or any other man—what she felt for Edward.

She looked up, putting a hand on Jules' chest, just over his heart.

"Goodnight, Honey Monster," she said, using Jess's nickname for her brother, and turned to go in her room.

"Goodnight, Bellybean," he replied softly, before turning and going back to his room.

She closed the door quietly and walked straight over to the bed without turning on a light. She crawled across the mattress, pulling the bedspread around her and curling herself into the foetal position, not bothering to undress or brush her teeth.

And there she lay, silent tears coursing down her face, until restless sleep claimed her in the wee small hours of the night.

* * *

**Translations:**

The reference to the only straight man in town comes from the fact that Brighton is kind of England's San Francisco, with possibly the largest gay community in the country.

Kedgeree – an English breakfast food, invented by the English in colonial India. It's rice, smoked haddock or cod and chopped hard-boiled eggs (sometimes with peas), cooked in a frying pan with curry paste, a little cayenne and turmeric… yum!

_Decorum in omnia_ _- _Decorum at all times

Cream-crackered – cockney rhyming slang for 'knackered', i.e. exhausted

Nads – slang for testicles (short for gonads!)


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

As always, immense thanks to my fab beta, MauiGirl60, and to my other two special ladies, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY  
**

**Sunday 3 July 2011**

_Morning – London._

Edward woke with a hangover. It was a feeling he had become familiar with when Bella first returned to London alone at Easter, although, after a month of intoxicated wallowing, he had told himself he couldn't continue down that road. However, upon his return from Brighton, his anguish at having probably fucked up what could be his last chance with Bella, and his fury over Jane's intervention, all combined to send him on something of a bender—an excellent 12-year-old malt whisky being the focus of his attention until he passed out on the sofa.

Groaning, he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked at his watch. He could tell that it was hideously early, because of the angle of the encroaching sunlight streaming through the windows. When he saw that it was 5.00AM, he couldn't suppress another loud, pained groan.

Everything ached—his head, his neck, his back—and he knew he needed water, pain-killers and a hot shower, definitely in that order. He would then have to contemplate whether to stay up or try and get some more sleep, this time in the comfort of his bed. After a few more minutes of somewhat mindless contemplation, he pushed his protesting body off the couch and stood, looking down as he heard a thump on the floor, to see his phone lying at his feet.

"Shit!" he rasped, memories of the previous night suddenly flooding back with a vengeance. He remembered a conversation with Jane, full of accusations and bitter acrimony. He also remembered texting Bella. A lot. Slowly, he bent to pick up the offending article, grimacing as the blood rushed to his aching head, making him feel like his eyes were about to explode.

Straightening, he unlocked the phone and went to his messages. There was nothing from Bella, which left him feeling both relieved and disappointed. Then, with a feeling of mounting trepidation, he checked the texts he'd sent to her the night before.

There were ten.

"Oh fuck!" he groaned, running his hand through his hair and wincing at the tangled, greasy feel of it.

Throwing the phone down on the sofa, he headed across the room and upstairs, deciding that he couldn't deal with reading his drunk texting until he'd had a shower and a cup of coffee, at the very least.

**~o0o~**

_Morning – Buckinghamshire._

Bella woke to the unwelcome sound of what could only be a herd of talking pachyderms rampaging through the house, making her wonder if maybe she'd fallen into some real-life version of _Jumanji_. Forcing open her swollen and gritty eyes, she was further disturbed by loud banging on her door.

"Wake up, Swan—are you decent?" This was followed by laughter and exclamations which sounded awfully like 'hope not'.

Scowling, she squinted at her watch, which, like her clothes, she hadn't taken off the night before, and groaned when she saw it was only 5.30 in the morning.

"Swan, get your gorgeous arse out of bed!" It was Jules—or maybe Xander, she could never tell from voice alone—and his demand was accompanied by another round of knocking.

"Sod off, it's the middle of the night!" she yelled back.

The door crashed open, and what seemed to be the entire household streamed into her room.

"Come on, Bellybean. It's a beautiful day and we're heading over to Denham Marina for a bit of rowing practice. Mum and Juicy are coming, so you have to as well." He bent over the bed and tried to drag the covers off her.

"Lord, B, did you sleep in your clothes? Come on, chop-chop, we need a cox and you know Jess is hopeless." He shook her shoulder… hard.

"Nooooo, don' wanna," she whined, drumming her feet on the bed and trying to pull the covers back over herself, but he was unrelenting. "Juuuuu-liaaan… stopppp!"

Bella could hear laughter and banter behind Jules, and then Xander piped up. "No rest for the wicked or the pretty, Swan. We need a cox and, as you're the only one who's small enough and knows one end of a scull from another, you're _it_."

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted bodily off the bed and, despite her wails of consternation, found herself being planted on her feet at the side of the bed.

"I hate you," she mumbled, extricating herself from their hold.

"No you don't, Bellybean, you love us. Now, go wash your face and get changed. We're leaving in half an hour."

With that, the room emptied as quickly as it had filled just minutes earlier, leaving only Jessica standing in the middle of the room with a resigned look on her face.

"Your brothers are complete and utter toe-rags, Jess—can't you control them?" Bella grumbled, nevertheless turning to go into the bathroom.

"Ugh, don't blame me—do I look like I have the slightest influence over what they do? Think yourself lucky—I had to go through this same rigmarole fifteen minutes earlier than you, _plus_ I had the whole bloody gang of them come in the room when I was half naked. Honest to God, B, I thought Miles was going to dribble all over the carpet."

Bella emerged from the bathroom, wiping her face with a towel. "Oh my God, Jess, he didn't try to poke you with his Party Mars Bar, did he?"

Jessica scowled, grabbing a pillow from the bed and hurling it at Bella, who side-stepped the feathery missile.

"Shut _up_, mingah!"

Laughing, Bella dived back into the bathroom and started trying to repair the damage she'd inflicted with her epic crying jag the night before. She brushed her hair and freshened up, changing into clean jeans and a t-shirt, while Jess regaled her with further details of her own early-morning rousting.

Finally, just before they went downstairs to join the others, she picked up her phone from the bedside cabinet and powered it up. As her voicemail and message inboxes populated, an endless stream of alert noises went off, each one causing her eyes to grow wider as she saw all the texts from Edward.

Jess came to look over her shoulder. "Crikey, B, I thought Laurie told him to give you space—are all those texts from Edward?"

Bella didn't respond. She simply pressed the button to power down her phone again, before hurrying out of her room and downstairs.

**~o0o~**

Much as Bella grumbled that she wasn't in the mood, in the end, she allowed herself to be persuaded to go to the Marina—which was essentially a group of large, interconnecting lakes—and join in with the 8-man scull race. And, being petite enough to occupy the cox's position at the rear of the boat, and spending many a summer morning over the years coxing for Jules and Xander and their friends, she was very well qualified to fulfil that role once again. And, in truth, she was glad of it, as it completely took her mind off the events of the previous day—and the inbox full of texts from Edward.

The boys—all strapping colossi who towered over the girls—were rambunctious and good-natured, shamelessly flirting with Jessica and Bella, but in such a way as to make them feel pretty and appreciated, but also cherished and safe. Indeed, in the clubhouse later after her team's triumphant win, Bella had very much gained the impression that if anyone tried anything with either girl, they would have been soundly and comprehensively beaten and ejected.

It was fun and just what she needed. Between coxing her team to victory on the lake, followed by drinks in the company of sixteen loud and amusing rowers, the day passed in a blur. By the time she and Jess got home, she was exhausted and in desperate need of a nap before a late lunch.

In fact, it wasn't until later that evening, after supper, that Bella found herself wide awake and alone, a situation which immediately prompted her to start thinking about Edward. Taking a deep breath, she finally turned on her phone and started reading the texts he'd sent the night before, scrolling back to the first one and reading forward.

**B it's not what you think, please call me**

**Pls just call me and let me explain**

**Im sorry u had 2 find out abt jane that way but shes nothing to me eithr personly or in busns**

**Pls pls call mee**

**U cant ignor me 4ever fcukng call me**

**Sory sorrry ples at lest txtt me bcak**

**Bellla jus wana hera yur vcoic**

**I msis u**

**Ima ass ur beter offf wtout mee**

**Wish I culd se ur baeutful fac an touch u adn**

The last message was barely comprehensible. In fact, judging by the escalating deterioration in his texting, she guessed he had been drinking steadily throughout the night until, presumably, falling into a drunken stupor just after midnight, when the final, incomplete text had been sent.

He truly sounded desperate and like he really cared about her and missed her—but Bella fought against feeling sorry for him and wanting him. How could she trust him? Regardless of what he said, Jane existed and, at the very least, he had discussed with her the possibility of buying her out of SP—a betrayal that she still could not get her mind around. And so she had to question his motives now. Was he really sorry, or was he just sorry he had been caught in a lie? Was he just trying to placate her before, once again, attempting to sweet talk her into parting with her shares? She had to now wonder if there was a part of Edward that believed he should own more than a fifth of the company—before her parents' untimely death, he had been a fifteen percent shareholder, and had inherited Renee's five percent. But who was 'Jane' and how would an alliance with her benefit him? She wanted to trust him, God knows, but he'd hurt and deceived her so many times now that she didn't dare leave herself vulnerable to him ever again, lest he destroy what was left of her bruised and beaten heart.

But, oh, how she missed him.

As she continued to stare sightlessly at her phone whilst trying to make sense of the myriad conflicting thoughts whizzing through her head, the sudden pinging of a text alert made her jump and drop the phone, which slid off the bed and onto the floor. Bella breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her palpitating heart, before climbing off the bed to retrieve her phone from under the bed, grimacing when she found it covered in dust and cobwebs.

Gingerly picking up the grubby device, she blew on it and then woke the screen to see that there was another text from Edward. She stared at it for a long minute before shaking her head at her own procrastination and opening her inbox.

**B – abject apologies for my senseless diatribe of last night; needless to say, I was not myself! I hate texting so have emailed you. E x **

Bella read and re-read the message, frowning both at the closing kiss and at Edward's declaration that he had not been himself… how the hell was she supposed to interpret that? Was he saying he hadn't meant anything he'd written—that he did not, in fact, miss her, or want to hear her voice and see her face… and that he didn't want to touch her?

"Fuck you, Edward," she whispered tremulously.

She deleted all his texts, and then went into her email inbox where she quickly spotted a new email from Edward.

She deleted it without opening it.

Then she turned her phone over and opened it up, removing the SIM card and walking into the bathroom where she tossed it in the small bin beside the washbasin.

Tomorrow she would cancel her existing contract, then go into town and get a new phone and a new number.

Telling herself that she had done what was necessary, Bella finally went to bed. She lay awake for a long time, feeling like she had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest and wondering if she would spend the rest of her life crying herself to sleep every night over that infuriating man.

**~o0o~**

**Tuesday 5 July 2011**

Edward stared at his computer screen despondently. He had specifically tagged his email to Bella with a request for a 'read receipt' which had so far failed to materialise, meaning that she hadn't even opened it, let alone read it. So he had sent a further text, which had bounced back as undeliverable. Then he called her, only to be informed that 'the number you have dialled is not recognised'. On the third time of trying, with the same result, he could only come to one conclusion.

_She's changed her number. She's probably deleted my email without reading it and she's got herself a new fucking phone. So, I guess that's it._

He tossed his phone onto the desk and sat back in his chair. He could feel a lump forming in his throat and cursed himself for getting emotional.

_You always knew she'd break your heart if you let her in. You stupid fucker! You fucking stupid moron!_

He dropped his head into his hands and gave in to the sob which bubbled up and out of his throat.

For several minutes he was consumed with sorrow, unable to think beyond the fact that Bella had turned her back on him once and for all. He'd lost her.

And it was his own fault.

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until black spots danced across his vision, Edward realised he had two choices.

He could do what he'd done in April—give in and resolve himself to move on. He could ride the storm of this overwhelming… grief, then get to work on rebuilding the walls around his heart that Bella had torn down. He could move on, never again allowing himself to give any more than the tiniest piece of himself to anyone.

Or he could fight for her until the battle was either won, or irrevocably lost, and his heart was either restored or turned to stone. And, quite honestly, if he couldn't get her back, then his heart would be of no use to him anyway.

Edward sat up in his chair and impatiently dashed away the tears from his face.

_Fucking hell, how did that slip of a girl turn me into such a pussy?_

Then he picked up his phone and started making some calls.

_It's not over, Bella—not until the fat lady sings. And if I have to, I'll fucking shoot the bitch before she can even open her mouth._

Pressing his phone to his ear, the first of his calls was quickly answered.

"Hey Emmett… yeah, fine. Listen, I need a favour… a fucking massive favour…"

**~o0o~**

**Sunday 10 July 2011**

Bella sat in the passenger seat of the rented Alpha Romeo 159 2.0L, as they drove north out of Rome towards Sarteano. It was just coming up to 3.30PM and she calculated they should be at the villa by five o'clock, just in time for a shower and aperitifs in the garden before heading out to Santa Chiara for dinner.

She glanced to her left at Jess, who was at the wheel, then behind her to where she could see Lauren sprawled in the back seat. Jess, by common agreement, was going to do most of the driving as Lauren was regarded as a lunatic, and Bella was, at 17, regarded as uninsurable by car hire companies – as it was, the cover for Jessica and Lauren was exorbitant. The irony was, that of the three of them, Bella was regarded as the best driver.

The last week had flown by, much to Bella's relief. Lauren had arrived on Monday afternoon and they had spent the rest of the week hanging with the boys or having silly girly nights. On Lauren's first night, the three of them had retreated to Bella's room and she had finally told them everything that had happened, from Jane's intercepted texts to Edward's desperate messages and his unread email.

Lauren tended to think she should have read the email, but Bella told her it didn't matter what he said—how could she trust his words… or him? Lauren had shaken her head sadly and relayed exactly what had passed between herself and Edward after Bella's departure on Saturday, and although Bella had felt torn, she had told them that she couldn't give in again, that she must harden her heart and make herself forget him. Much to her surprise, Lauren tried to put Edward's case, but Bella had become irritated with her, demanding that she pick a side, so, of course, she picked her friend.

But later, after Bella had gone to bed, she and Jess had talked late into the night and Lauren had eventually brought an initially sceptical Jessica round to her way of thinking.

"He's so desperate, Jess—and I swear, if you'd been there, you would have seen it in his eyes and known he wasn't lying. He just needs to get his head out of his arse and sort out this Jane character, because although I'm inclined to help him out, if he cocks it up again I will take pa's shotgun to his nads."

Jess smiled weakly, looking torn. "I believe you, doll, really I do. And if I'm honest, a part of me kind of wants to root for the guy, even though he's a blithering idiot, but Bell's so determined not to give in. If we keep on at her, she'll probably just dig her heels in and there's a bloody good chance we'll all end up falling out, which is the last thing any of us want."

She sighed, looking at her friend for guidance. She knew a lot of people thought Lauren was just a dumb blonde, but she and Bella knew better. Yes, Lauren could play the idiot and rarely took anything seriously, but when it really mattered she was a staunch and loyal ally, with a knack for cutting to the chase. Jessica now hoped that Lauren would have blindingly insightful words to offer.

Lauren, however, merely shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to play it by ear and try not to spook her. You know… slowly, slowly, catchy monkey. Remind her that he makes her all moist in a secret little girl's place."

Jess giggled, shaking her head. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

And so they had spent the time until they were due to fly making oblique references to Edward and all the events which had led up to the current impasse between him and Bella. They didn't nag or push or labour the point, just kept dropping little hints and reminders and pearls of wisdom into their conversations. They talked about sex, reminding Bella how much she had loved that part of her relationship with Edward, so that by the time they were on their way to Italy, it was clear that she was giving a lot of thought to everything that he had done _for_ her, as well as _to_ her.

And the truth was, of course, that she missed him, desperately and profoundly, like an amputee misses a limb. She longed to turn back the clock, to have never seen those loathsome texts. As the week had progressed, in the face of her friends' gentle cajoling, and Edward's adamant denial to Lauren of any wrongdoing—which she'd described in detail to Bella—it all began to play on her mind and she wondered if she had, perhaps, been too hasty.

But she had heard nothing further from Edward and she also started to wonder if he had finally given up on her, deciding that she was more trouble than she was worth. Her friends reminded her that she'd changed her phone number, but he hadn't emailed her either.

And now they were in Italy and Edward was back in America, so what was the point of even thinking about any of it.

She sighed, which earned her a look from Jess.

"You okay, dollface?

Bella shook her head. "I'm fine, I was just thinking about… oh, it's stupid… arrgghh!" She banged her head against the side window.

Jess reached out a hand and placed it over Bella's. "Hey, hey, come on, sweetie. Don't get upset"

Bella threw her a rueful smile.

Withdrawing her hand, Jess gave her a quizzical look. "So, come on, what's so stupid?"

Behind her, Lauren leant forward and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Bella remained silent for so long, Jess started to think she wasn't going to answer, but then she took a deep breath and glanced again at her friends.

"I was thinking… maybe I should have read his email…" Bella didn't really know what else to say and turned her attention back to the road ahead, missing the look which Jess shot at Lauren in the back seat.

Shortly after, much to Bella's relief, Lauren started talking about their plans for the next couple of weeks and they were soon laughing and chatting excitedly about their holiday. In this way, the journey passed quickly, and before they even realised it, they were entering Sarteano's town limits and, just minutes later, arrived at the Mallorys' holiday villa.

As they pulled up in front of the imposing edifice, the door was thrown open to reveal a grinning, silver-haired man who looked to be in his late 60s. He came forward, arms outstretched, to give each girl a warm hug as they got out of the car.

"_Le mie belle ragazze!_" he cried, standing back at last to look at them all. "Come, come," he said, sweeping an arm towards the door in a theatrical gesture. "I will bring your bags."

Lauren shook her head. "Bugger that, Enzo. Unless you've developed superhuman strength in the last year, I think we better bring our own bags."

The Mallorys' majordomo scowled a little but then saw the amount of luggage the girls were extracting from the car's boot and from the back seat and chuckled ruefully.

_"Si, si forse avete ragione_," he said.

"Of course I'm right. Now, I hope Paola has got some food, 'cos I could eat my own foot, I'm so hungry."

Lauren let the old man take one bag from her, then they all proceeded into the cool interior, glad to be out of the late afternoon heat.

More greetings were made with Paola, who was the housekeeper and Enzo's wife, and sure enough, large platters of cheese and salami, with soft loaves of focaccia, and chilled lemonade were spread out in the big, rustic kitchen.

The girls happily fell on the food like ravenous beasts, whilst Enzo and Paola looked on indulgently, laughing at their enthusiasm and their light-hearted banter.

Later, after a much needed nap, and freshly showered and changed, the three of them headed out, cutting across the piazza in front of the villa to their favourite local watering hole, the Bar dello Sport. Sunday was jazz and blues night, which suited their first night requirements for something mellow and relaxed. They sat at a table outside, listening to the smooth tunes being played inside, and drank delicious local Sangiovese wine, talking and laughing whilst waving away the seemingly constant stream of horny Italian men. It was fun and just what they needed, and they returned home before midnight feeling tipsy but not wrecked, and tired but not exhausted.

For the next couple of days they were going to enjoy being lazy, sitting in the pretty English garden, swimming in the pool, and playing in the games room, before driving east on Wednesday to Rimini, on the coast, where they intended to spend a couple of days letting their hair down. They would then return to Sarteano on Saturday morning to greet Lauren's parents, who were coming for the weekend.

So it was that they all turned in on Sunday night, relaxed, happy and looking forward to the long days stretching out ahead. Even Bella felt a little at peace, despite the tumult of emotions which continued to bubble near the surface. She thought she might finally be able to sleep tonight, which would be a relief. But she also knew her last thought would be of Edward, just as it had been for the last four months or more.

And, as ever, her dreams would all be of Edward.

**~o0o~**

**Monday 11 July 2012**

Whilst Bella worked hard, with the help and support of her friends, to put the confusion and hurt of the last eight days out of her mind, albeit only intermittently, Edward had been busy.

Back in New York, Monday morning found him sitting at his desk checking through papers, occasionally signing his name. It was still early and he was alone in the office. Rosalie would arrive in about half an hour, and Emmett and his broker were coming in mid-morning to meet with Edward to discuss his revised plans for Swan Publishing.

He had spent the weekend personally calling as many of the shareholders as he could get hold of, and had managed to arrange a number of meetings over the next few days. He had done about as much as he could, and now it was all down to charm and persuasion… and a soupçon of luck—something which had been in short supply of late.

On the basis that the best form of defence is a good offence, Edward had decided to take the bull by the horns and go on the attack—no way was he going to sit back and passively watch as Jane-fucking-Volturi tried to manipulate her way into a position of power in his and Bella's company.

So, as the scudding summer clouds cast shade and light across his office, Edward made calls and laid plans. Even if he couldn't get Bella back, he would do everything within his power to keep the company safe and strong for her, if it was the last thing he ever did.

**~o0o~**

In Italy, that first week seemed to fly past in a hot, hazy blur of food and wine and road trips, of beaches and bikinis and sexy Italian men, of cocktails and loud music and dancing, and of hangovers and lazy mornings and sun screen. And all the while, Jessica and Lauren made sure to cram every minute with activities or alcohol or random chatter—or all three—giving Bella little time to dwell on Edward and her complicated love life.

Saturday morning found them, somewhat wearily, making the return trip from Rimini to Sarteano, all three of them feeling the after-effects of their sojourn on the coast and looking forward to a relatively peaceful few days back at the villa. Lauren's parents were due to arrive that afternoon, so they had determined to set out as early as their fatigue would allow so that they would have time for a couple of hours' rest before Bella and Lauren set off for Rome airport to collect them.

Back at last in the cool comfort of her room, Bella unpacked her bag and took a refreshing shower, before rummaging through her things to find her phone so she could check her emails. Puzzled, she searched again… _nope, definitely not there._ She glanced around the room, but it was nowhere to be seen.

_Bugger! Oh, please don't say I left it in Rimini?_

Pulling on some clean knickers and a t-shirt, Bella went to Jessica's room, finding her similarly attired.

"Hey, Jess, have you seen my phone?"

"Oh, yeah, I picked it up as we were leaving and forgot to tell you—you left it on the coffee table in the apartment."

Bella frowned. "Crikey, I don't remember that at all. Thanks, sweetie—looks like I was right to worry about leaving it behind."

"No problem, Bellend—lucky for you that you have such a sensible friend," Jess responded smugly.

Bella snorted. "Yeah, right! You just keeping thinking that, Juicy."

"Arrggh—I've told you before, don't call me that!" Jessica picked up a scatter cushion and hurled it at Bella's back as she ran, giggling, out the door.

Returning to her room, she plonked herself cross-legged on the bed and activated the phone, only to find the battery completely dead. Sighing with aggravation, she dug out her charger and left the instrument on her bedside table while she went in search of something to eat and drink.

**~o0o~**

In New York, Edward emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped round his hips whilst he used another to roughly dry his hair. It was getting too long and he needed to get a haircut, but his favourite barber was way across town and he just hadn't been able to get up the enthusiasm to spend half the day sitting in the back of his limo just to get a haircut, especially when he had far more pressing matters to deal with.

Dropping the damp towel on his bed, he picked up his phone to check for messages, frowning when he saw a text from an unknown number. Opening it, his eyebrows shot into his hairline and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

**Hi Ed its Jess – got ur # from B's fone ala mata hari lol. Which BTW I shdnt have to do as she has my rents # so I shld hv urs. Neway ur not 4given yet but if u no wots good 4u u shd send tht eml again. O and dont tell her I told u. And dont say I never do nethng 4u! J**

Edward had to read the message several times, first to make sense of it—it took him several minutes to work out that words starting with 'ne' apparently meant 'any'.

_Jeez, kids and their stupid text speak! Would it kill them to type one extra letter?_

Then he had to read it again to make sense of what she was actually telling him. Apparently, Jessica had purloined Bella's phone without her knowledge in order to get his number so that she could tell him to send his email again—which kind of confirmed his suspicion that Bella had deleted the original version without reading it.

But why was Jessica telling him this? What was she up to? Could he trust her? Lauren hadn't been unsympathetic, but he was aware that she had a bit of a crush on him, whereas Jessica had always been a little cooler towards him. He knew both girls were fiercely loyal and would never do anything to hurt Bella, so had Lauren persuaded her that he was truly contrite?

He realised his continued speculation was pointless without some direct answers, and without giving it further thought, he called the number.

"Edward… what a surprise," came the laconic greeting from Jess.

"Jessica… uh, how are you? Are you… er… can you talk?" He heard her chuckle on the other end.

"I'm fine, thanks, and yeah, I can talk. Bell has gone with Laurie to Rome to pick up her parents from the airport."

"Oh, right, okay." Edward sucked in a big breath and gathered his thoughts. "Look, Jessica, I got your text… obviously. But I'm not sure I understand. Why are you doing this?"

He heard her rather exasperated sigh on the other end and squeezed his eyes closed. _Please, please, please don't let this be a wind-up._

"It's pretty simple, really, Edward. Bella loves you… I mean, really, _really_ crazy loves you, even though you've been a spectacular fuckwit. And for reasons which escape me, Lauren seems convinced of your abject contrition, so we—Lauren and I—have decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and at least give you a chance to plead your case. Bella deleted your email, and now she wishes she'd read it, hence my text. Simples!"

Edward smiled, feeling a flood of relief wash over him. "Wow, I don't know what to say, Jessica. This is… I'm…"

"You don't need to say anything. Just don't make a pig's ear of it this time. Because this is a one-time only offer, Edward—you do not get to keep breaking my friend's heart with impunity. Laurie's already threatening to take a shotgun to your most precious appendage, and, believe you me, that girl knows her way round a firearm. She may seem like she's a sandwich short of a picnic, but she can shoot the tiara off a duchess without parting her hair."

Edward laughed uneasily, as he had no reason to doubt Jess's words. The whole Mallory family were mad, as far as he could tell, and he had a vague recollection of reading somewhere about a time when Lauren's father, Sir Peregrine Mallory, had peppered a tax inspector's ass with buckshot when he had the temerity to turn up on the doorstep demanding unpaid taxes.

"I promise I won't mess up this time, Jessica… at least, not deliberately. I… well, thanks, I appreciate this."

"Don't thank me yet, because if you do bugger it up again, I'll be lending my shoulder to Laurie so she's got somewhere to rest the barrel while she takes aim!"

Edward winced and they said their goodbyes, but inside he could feel a surge of hope. He tried hard to tamp it down, because he was by no means home and dry, but when he left for the office, his mood had improved tenfold over what it had been for the last week.

**~o0o~**

It was past two o'clock in the morning when Bella made her way to bed, the bonds of exhaustion wrapping tightly around her. It had been a long day, waking up in Rimini this morning, tired and a little hungover, the long drive back to Sarteano, then the trip to Rome in the afternoon to pick up Lauren's parents, a round trip of some three hours, followed by dinner, and drinks at the Sports Bar. They had all got back home after midnight, but Lauren's dad had insisted on a nightcap… or three, and, before she had known it, Bella realised that she had been up now for nearly twenty hours. She adored Perry and Pandora Mallory, but they were, without a doubt, completely barking and just a bit overwhelming, so at 2.00AM she had no qualms in making her excuses and heading off to bed.

Closing her bedroom door behind her, Bella leaned against it for a moment and sighed with relief. Her moment of reverie was interrupted by her phone beeping on her bedside table, causing her to look at it with a frown. She had left it there to charge the entire afternoon and evening, forgetting all about it until now.

Pushing away from the door she sat down on the bed, unplugging the charger and unlocking the phone to see that she had unread emails. She started to turn it off, thinking she was too tired to go through an inbox full of Facebook notifications, but her thumb kind of twitched on the screen and she watched as her inbox popped up, with one name standing out amongst everything else.

Edward.

Bella squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then, before she could change her mind, pressed the power button and turned her phone off. She determinedly prepared for bed, climbing under the cool, single cotton sheet and turning the light out. She was so tired, she was sure she would quickly fall asleep and she could decide what to do in the morning, when she was refreshed.

She lay awake for half an hour, her mind a positive spin-cycle of thoughts, before her resolve crumbled and she sat up in bed with a frustrated groan.

"Bum holes!"

Reaching out, she turned on the lamp, before sliding out of bed to rummage in her case for her iPad. Retrieving it, she climbed back into bed and fired it up. As her inbox once again filled the screen, she sighed at the sight of Edward's email, but knew there would be no sleep for her tonight if she didn't open it and read it—indeed, had she not expressed her regret only a few days ago that she had deleted it without reading it?

Without further prevarication, she tapped the screen and watched as the email opened.

**From: Edward  
****Sent: Saturday July 16, 2011 07:32  
****To: Bella  
****Subject: PLEASE READ!**

Bella

I never got a reply from you to my email of the 3rd, and I suspect you haven't even read it. I'm going out on a limb here and sending it to you again, with a plea that you at least read it. I can't bear that you're so far away, thinking badly of me. Please just read it, and if you still don't reply or make any overtures towards me, then I will have to accept, albeit with a heavy heart, that, regardless of what I say, you no longer care for me or want me in your life.

Yours  
Edward x

-original message-

**From: Edward  
****Sent: Sunday July 03, 2011 08:23  
****To: Bella  
****Subject: Yesterday**

Dearest Bella

I am sitting here at my dining table in Kensington, still shell-shocked and confused about what happened yesterday. I have no idea where to start, but I must start somewhere. I know now that you saw the texts from Jane, so before I say anything else, let me explain the background to these.

Jane Volturi is the mystery buyer of SP shares, daughter of one of our major competitors, Aro Volturi, although the shares were purchased in another name through a Volturi holding company. I found this out when you first returned to the UK in April and followed up with a meeting. It quickly became clear that her plan was to rope me into her cause so that I would join forces with her and use our guardian/ward relationship to persuade you to relinquish your majority holding. At the time I was very despondent about the way we had parted and cursing myself, on a daily basis, for being such an idiot. Please believe me when I tell you that all I've ever wanted is your happiness, and yet by my every clumsy and thoughtless action, all I seem to have achieved is the exact opposite. When I talked to Jane, my addled brain was easily swayed by her insistence that you should be allowed to flourish and grow without the responsibility of a company such as SP, but when I look back, I realise that I clearly wasn't thinking straight, and it almost feels like I was dazzled or something into agreeing to her stupid plan. I'm not trying to make excuses – there are none – just explain what happened.

All I can say is that by the time I arrived in London from New York, I was already having second-thoughts, and then, when I saw you in Sussex, every idea and suggestion which Jane put to me just flew out the window. Had you not intercepted her text messages I'm pretty sure I would have managed to convince you of my feelings and, at the very least, persuaded you to give me another chance. Certainly, the last thing I now want is to try to sever your connection with SP and, by association, myself.

There are so many things I want to say to you, Bella, which I just can't and won't put in a soulless email. Suffice it to say that, should you ever deign to give me that second chance that I long for, I can promise that I will do everything in my power to make up for being the complete and utter twat that you surely believe me to be.

Yours  
Edward x

Bella stared at the screen, then re-read the email. She couldn't help smiling a little at his final sentence, but she was filled with doubt.

_I can't do this, I just can't let him in again. Ever. Please let me be strong enough not to give in._

* * *

**Translations:**

_Le mie belle ragazze – _My beautiful girls

_Si, si forse avete ragione– _Yes, yes, perhaps you're right

A scull is a long, narrow rowing boat – you can have 2-, 4- or 8-man sculls, and the 8-man boats require a cox, who has to be small, so is often a girl. He or she sits at the very back, facing the rowers, and is responsible for steering the boat and setting the pace (oar strokes).


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Big thanks, as ever, to my beta, MauiGirl60, as well as Cared and Midnight Cougar. I would also like to thank mydelirium for all her help with Italian translations.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

**From: Bella  
****Sent: Monday 18 July, 2011 15:19  
****To: Edward  
****Subject: RE: Yesterday**

Edward

I have read your email, and I believe and accept what you say; rationally, I know you have feelings for me – that you do, in fact, care a good deal about what happens to me, so of course I accept that you would never intentionally try to hurt me. Nevertheless, that's exactly what you've done, time after time, and your email changes nothing. Perhaps I got what I deserved for all my bad behaviour in the past, who knows. Nevertheless, I cannot see what could possibly be achieved by our seeing each other or trying again, except more of the same, and I just don't think I can take it.

I am happy for you to retain my power of attorney with regard to SP, and trust you to continue to act in the best interests of the firm, as you've always done. Perhaps when I've completed my studies, whether or not I opt to pursue a post-graduate doctorate, enough time will have elapsed and we will be able to work together without being bogged down by our pasts.

I genuinely wish you well, but I would prefer it if you could leave me alone now. Let sleeping dogs lie, Edward – no good will come of prolonging the agony.

Bella

Edward clicked away from the screen, knowing that re-reading Bella's email wouldn't change it or enable him to put any kind of positive spin on her words. He wouldn't reply… couldn't even contemplate replying, because to do so would mean he would have to tell her that he accepted what she was telling him and confirm that he would leave her alone, and he simply wasn't prepared to do that—the fat lady wasn't singing yet, and he would fight until his last breath to keep the old broad muzzled.

**~o0o~**

**Friday 22 July 2011**

Edward looked up from his desk when he heard shouting in the outer office, just in time to see his door fly open, revealing a furious-looking Jane Volturi, with an equally furious-looking Rosalie right behind her.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Edward, she just blasted right by me before I could stop her. Do you want me to toss her bony ass out of here?"

At that, Jane threw a look over her shoulder at Rose of such malevolence that it was almost as if she hoped to reduce her to a writhing heap of burning pain. A lesser person would have retreated, cowed. Rose, of course, was made of sterner stuff, and merely cocked an eyebrow at the diminutive blonde in a clear challenge which said 'bring it on, bitch.'

Suppressing a smirk, Edward waved a hand in a nonchalant gesture.

"It's fine, Rose."

"If you say so." She turned a saccharine sweet smile towards Edward's visitor. "Can I get you anything to drink, Ms Volturi? Coffee, tea, hemlock?"

"Thanks, Rose, but that won't be necessary—I doubt Ms Volturi will be staying long."

Rosalie nodded over Jane's head and reached out to pull the door closed, leaving Edward alone with his visitor.

He sat back in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers under his chin.

"Hello, Jane. To what do I owe this… dubious pleasure?"

She narrowed her eyes and strode purposefully across the room, leaning forward with her hands planted firmly on his desk.

"You've been avoiding me, Edward, and I want to know what you're up to. I've heard a lot of rumours and I need to hear you deny them."

He gazed at her blankly. "Rumours, Jane? I have no idea what you're talking about, so how can I deny anything?" he asked, disingenuously.

He watched as something almost… feral flittered across her face… a look in her eyes which passed so quickly he wasn't sure he had seen it, but whatever it was made him uncomfortable. The thought sprang to mind that he must have been crazy or stupid to have ever found this woman attractive, even without the comparison to Bella.

"I'd strongly advise you not to fuck with me, Edward. You should know that I _always_ get what I want," she said, her voice low and full of menace.

She straightened up, her eyes fixed on his. Then she sighed and dropped into one of the visitors' chairs, crossing her legs and looking down at her hands now resting in her lap. Edward didn't speak, preferring to wait to see what else she had to say. After a moment of silence, she looked back up at him, her expression blank.

"Edward, I really don't want to fall out with you. I thought we had something special between us. I thought we made a good team, you and I." She shrugged then, looking resigned—but her eyes told a different story; her eyes said something altogether more… threatening. "I can understand if you've changed your mind about us… well, not really, but what I can't understand—or tolerate—is that you're working against me behind my back.

"Whatever you're up to, Edward, it really isn't necessary, you know. Even if we can't be more, we can still be friends, and if we joined forces, we could be unstoppable. Don't you see that? Do you just want to be a little fish in a big ocean all your life, or do you want to be a shark… a big hitter, with all the influence and power that goes with it? And are you telling me that you'd rather be with your mousy little virgin? Seriously? Rumour has it that she's a little more than your ward… are you dipping into the honeypot, Edward?"

Edward continued to look at her, his face an impervious mask. He wanted to ask what she knew… had Tanya been blabbing? But if he asked, she would know there was something to it. For a long minute they just stared at each other. Then, all of a sudden, Edward shot to his feet and clapped his hands together, allowing himself a little smirk when Jane visibly jumped in her seat. He quickly skirted around his desk and strode over to the door, pulling it open and standing back.

"Okay, time's up, I'm afraid, Jane. Places to go, people to see—you know what it's like. Thanks for popping by, but I really must get on. Rose will see you out." He glanced around the door to the outer office, giving his Assistant a wink. She grinned at him, and got up.

"Of course, Mr Cullen. Ms Volturi, do you need my help getting through the door?" She stood in the doorway, hands on hips, looking pointedly at Jane, who was still sitting in front of Edward's desk. Edward and Rosalie watched as various emotions swept across Jane's porcelain doll's face—shock, confusion, fury and, finally, calculation. Standing, she walked over to Edward, making sure she didn't get too close, so that she didn't have to crick her neck to look at him, knowing this would instantly put her at a disadvantage.

"This isn't over, Edward, not by any means," she hissed, before sweeping past him and then Rose, before quickly exiting the office. They both watched her go, and then Rose turned her attention back to Edward.

"Jesus, Edward, you sure know how to pick 'em. Please tell me that you didn't fuck that piece of toxic waste."

He turned a laconic gaze on her. "Not that it's any of your business, Rose, but no, I did not, as you so eloquently put it, fuck her. I'm guessing that it would be like being swallowed up by a Venus Fly Trap… besides, I'm a married man."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You said it, Eddie. So, onwards and upwards, eh? Legal said they would have everything ready to sign by three, and Emmett will be here at four o'clock to do the deed. Is there anything else?"

"No, that's all, Rose. Thanks for getting it all sorted so quickly."

"Like I keep telling you, Edward, that's why you pay me the big bucks," she grinned, returning to her desk.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes—a fact that Rose noted with sadness. As he disappeared back into his office, she couldn't help wondering if he was hurting because he hadn't heard from Bella… or because he had.

**~o0o~**

That evening, Edward celebrated with Rose and Emmett and other senior members of staff from SP, including Mike Newton and Angela Weber. He was satisfied and pleased with the way all his plans had played out, but found it difficult to get past the underlying sorrow which Bella's email had engendered.

In an attempt to cheer up his old friend, Emmett threw his arm round Edward's shoulder and yelled into his ear over the noise of the crowded bar.

"Come on, Eddie, you've pulled off a great deal and we're all gonna be winners."

Edward smiled at his friend. "Yeah, but I couldn't have done it without you, Em—I owe you, big time."

"Hey, what are friends for, eh? And buying into Swan Publishing was a no-brainer, man, and God knows I need to find something to spend all that money on!"

Edward laughed. "Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that—Rose has got some ideas, not the least of which is going to be your wedding."

Emmett's face split into a massive grin at mention of a wedding. He had popped the question when he and Rose had been in Boston, and when they'd returned they didn't even have to tell Edward, because the pure joy radiating off them was proof enough. It had only remained for Emmett to ask Edward to be his best man, a role he was delighted to fulfil, if a little sad that he would never be able to ask Emmett to reciprocate.

"Yeah, looks like Rose is going all out, but that's okay with me—only the best for my beautiful tigress."

Edward nodded, not wanting to rain on Emmett's parade, but his friend knew him too well. Giving him a less than gentle shake, Emmett wanted nothing more than to remove the sad, almost defeated look in Edward's eyes.

"Hey, dude, you'll get her back, and then you're going to be coming to me for marriage advice."

Edward sighed. "I don't think so, Em. She emailed me today, basically telling me to leave her the fuck alone. She's never coming back."

Emmett frowned. "So what are you going to do about it? Just sit on your ass and cry 'poor me?' For fuck's sake, Eddie, why don't you just go get her and bring her home? Tell her how you feel… fucking convince her that you won't ever break her heart again."

"Yeah, like it's that easy—"

Emmett threw his hands in the air. "Jesus, Edward, it's not a question of whether it's easy—what matters is whether it's worth the effort. She's still in Italy, right? Then get on a fucking plane and find her. You said she's planning to go see where her mom and dad were killed… what better time or place to go be with her? Come on, Edward, I thought you were going to fight for her."

"I…" Edward looked at his friend in frustration. Could it be that simple? What if that was all he needed to do? For a moment, his mind was in turmoil, but then, in a moment of absolute clarity, he realised Emmett was right.

"Fuck, I'm such an idiot!" He slapped Emmett on the back and grinned at him. "I'm going home, I've got some packing to do."

Emmett laughed, squeezing Edward's shoulder and moments later, Edward was saying his goodbyes to the group.

As he took his leave, no one noticed a short guy with darkly Mediterranean looks listening closely to their conversation from behind them. He smirked in satisfaction, as it occurred to him that he finally had a way back to the life he coveted.

**~o0o~**

**Sunday 24 July 2011**

"Oh, Bell, I wish you would reconsider." Jessica hugged Bella tightly as the two of them stood, surrounded by friends and family in the Departures Hall of Rome's Fiumicino Airport. Pulling back, she was feeling pretty hugged out, having been embraced, in turn, by Jessica's brothers, their friends, Rufus and Sebastian, then Lauren and now Jess.

Lauren's parents had returned to the UK on Monday afternoon, and the boys had turned up on Wednesday. They had spent a couple of days in Sarteano, and then had all come down to Rome for their last weekend. Now all but Bella were flying home, and she was sticking to her original plan to head up to Volterra. She would return to Sarteano to spend Sunday night, then strike out early on Monday morning, perhaps staying a couple of nights there, before heading back to Rome and a flight home.

The second week had been a lot of fun, and Bella put up a pretty good front the whole time, forcing herself not to think about the email she'd sent to Edward—or the fact that he hadn't responded. The boys had helped, their endlessly sunny dispositions and sense of humour making it relatively easy for Bella to compartmentalise her feelings and, for the most part, push away thoughts of Edward—at least, until she went to bed, when her dreams made it impossible to escape the sadness.

It was clear that Jules' long-term affection was on the cusp of turning to something deeper, and Bella told herself it would be so great to fall in love with someone like him. She knew, if she gave him a chance, that he would love her unconditionally, and that he could probably make her relatively happy—he was a lovely man and would undoubtedly make someone a wonderful husband. But, equally, she could not, in good conscience, let him think that there was any future for them—at least, not right now, and probably never. Jules was too good a person for Bella to string along or give just a part of herself to. She loved him, but it would likely never be enough.

Not until she'd purged herself of every feeling she'd ever had for Edward—and she was very much afraid that cutting out the canker of her love for him would also remove the healthy tissue of her heart, leaving her incapable of ever feeling any depth of emotion ever again. Offering such a worn and tattered remnant to a man with Jules' huge capacity to love seemed like a very poor deal to Bella and she refused to do that to him.

On the last night before their departure, after everyone else had gone to bed, she and Jules had found themselves alone, sitting on the balcony of their Rome holiday apartment in the encasing heat of the night. A part of her longed to fall into his willing arms and let him cherish and love her, but how could she do to her beloved friend what she had railed against Edward for doing to her?

Perched on the edge of his chair, he had turned to face her, leaning across and taking her hand.

"Bella, you must know I like you—"

"Please, Jules, don't do this," she interrupted quietly, her voice cracking a little.

He chuckled softly through his nose. "It's Edward, isn't it? He's really done a number on you."

Bella sat up to mirror his position, facing him. "Oh, Jules, it's not like that, I promise you. I… shit!" She pulled away from him, throwing her arms up and letting them fall. "I'm in love with him, Jules… simple as that. It feels like I've loved him my whole life and that I'll never stop. Can you understand?" There was a note of pleading in her voice as she looked at him.

He shook his head. "Bloody hell, Bella, you're only seventeen—if you really are in love with him, it can only have been for the last couple of years at most, and you have your whole bloody life ahead of you… years and years and years. You can't seriously think that you're going to stay in love for the rest of your days with a man who doesn't feel the same?"

Jules' voice held a note of the desperation he felt for Bella to admit that she should and could move on… hopefully with him.

Bella gave him a wry smile, taking his hand again and rubbing it with her own, palm-to-palm, and then linking their fingers.

"Do you want to know how many times a day I tell myself exactly that? Have you any idea how much I want to stop feeling this… this _craving_ for him? It's like he's my own personal brand of heroin and I'm going cold turkey." She stopped, looking down at their linked hands.

Jules gazed at the top of her head, mulling over his next words. He knew it was none of his business, but he really needed to know, because if the answer to the question he wanted to ask was 'no,' then he felt he might still have a chance.

"Have you… did you sleep with him, B?"

She didn't look up, and was so still and so quiet that he wasn't sure if she would answer, or even that she'd heard him. But then she looked up and he knew it was hopeless.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes starting to fill with tears, yet again. Tears for herself and the reminder of what had passed between herself and Edward; and tears for Jules, and what might have been had she never fallen for someone so unattainable.

"Oh, Bella…" He stood up abruptly, clasping his hands on top of his head and turning away from her. When he turned back, dropping his hands in a gesture of defeat, she could see that his eyes were glassy and unfocussed.

"Jesus, Bella, has the man no morals at all? Christ, he's your guardian, your fucking surrogate father. What the fuck is wrong with him?!" His voice was getting ever louder, ever more indignant and angry.

Bella stood up, placing a hand on his chest. "Jules, please stop. You can't say that… you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me, B… explain to me what a thirty-five year-old man thinks he's doing fucking his best friend's seventeen-year-old daughter when he's supposed to be taking care of her—he's clearly put a different interpretation on what your dad expected!"

She sighed, wishing she'd lied to him about sleeping with Edward, but knowing that he would have continued to pursue her if she hadn't. No one but Jess and Lauren knew about the marriage and she couldn't bring herself to tell him—it would just open up a whole new can of worms.

"First of all, he's not thirty-five, he's thirty-two—"

"Oh, well, that's all right then isn't it, if he's only fifteen years older than you instead of eighteen! Christ, Bella, he's still nearly old enough to be your father."

"But he's not my father, and God knows he never asked for this. Please, Jules, please don't be like this. I love you, you know I do, I just can't be the person you want. I can't give you everything you deserve, and I won't settle… and neither should you."

"Ha! So, you'd be 'settling' for me… that's nice to know."

"Oh, Jules, you know I didn't mean it that way. I'll always be your friend… even if you don't want me to be, but I hope you will. I can't lose you as well." She fought back a sob, which prevented her from speaking further, and heard him sigh. Moments later, she was wrapped in strong arms and she could no longer hold back the floodgates.

"Sweet, precious Bella, please don't cry. Of course I'll always want you to be my friend, how could I not? Apart from anything else, Jess would beat me to death with one of my own oars if I ever dumped you."

Bella half sobbed, half chuckled, sniffing noisily as she pulled back from him.

"Sorry, I've snotted on your shirt," she told him softly.

"Anytime, Bellybean," he replied, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "That stupid sod doesn't deserve you, you know."

"Maybe, maybe not," she sighed. She had no intention of telling Jules that Edward apparently wanted to make amends but that it was she who was now pushing _him_ away. No point adding fuel to that fire.

She felt his lips on her forehead, lingering for a heartbeat too long before pulling back.

"We should both get some sleep, Bell… early start tomorrow and you've got a long drive back to the villa in that old rattletrap of Enzo's. Will you be okay?"

He bent his knees to look her in the eye and she gave him a watery smile.

"If I'm not, I will be. Goodnight, Jules… and I really am sorry."

He nodded sadly, then turned and walked back indoors.

A short while later Bella, too, went inside, but sleep pretty much eluded her that night.

**~o0o~**

**Monday 25 July 2011**

Back in Sarteano, Bella was persuaded by an insistent Paola to give up her dirty laundry to be washed and ironed, enabling her to pack a good assortment of clothes for her trip up to Volterra the following day. She was borrowing Paola's Fiat 500, and would be returning to the villa in a day or two, depending on how long she decided to stay up north. Enzo would then drive her to Rome for her flight back to London. She had a flexible Club Class ticket, so would be able to change the return easily enough, should she wish to get an earlier or later flight.

**~o0o~**

**Tuesday 26 July 2011**

Shortly after six o'clock the next morning, Bella put her newly-packed bag into the boot of the little car and climbed behind the wheel. After setting the sat-nav with the address of her hotel in Volterra, she secured her seatbelt and started the engine. Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from the villa and carefully negotiated the narrow, empty streets until she breached the town's boundaries and hit the main highway, where she floored the accelerator and sped north… to what, she wasn't really sure, but it felt like she was going in the right direction.

**~o0o~  
**

A few hours later, a white Mercedes SL500 tore south from Florence along SR2 towards Poggibonsi, where it would turn and head west to the ancient walled town of Volterra. The single occupant was determined and focussed, knowing that the days which followed would change everything, irrevocably—a thought which drew a happy smile.

_It's all going to work out, I'm sure… it just has to._

**~o0o~**

Bella drove carefully through the narrow streets of the medieval town, glad of the distraction from thoughts of Edward which had plagued her on the long car ride, despite the music she had been playing at such a volume that it had made her ears ring. As the sat-nav announced her arrival at her destination, she peered through the windscreen and eventually spotted a discreet sign for the _Residence L'Etrusco_ over the door of the building on the corner. She had rented a one-bed apartment for three days, with the option to extend, and it looked like a really quaint and cosy establishment.

After checking in, she found her way to her apartment—one of only nine—and let herself in. The space was laid out as a living room with a small kitchenette off to one side, including a brand new hob and oven, fridge, microwave and washing machine. This led into a surprisingly spacious room housing a massive king-size bed, with a modest but clean bathroom, which housed modern fittings, including a spacious walk-in shower. The whole place had cool, terracotta tiled flooring, with small rugs scattered throughout. There was a comfortable looking two-seater sofa, a solid oak coffee table, small flat-screen TV and a compact little dining table and two chairs tucked into one corner.

Dropping her bag onto the bed, Bella made her way back to the living room and looked out the window. There was a narrow balcony which gave out onto the street and if she leaned out, she could look down towards the main square and catch a glimpse of the clock tower.

Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was just coming up to ten o'clock. A loud gurgling from her tummy reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything except half of a mango she had consumed before leaving Sarteano. Turning away from the window, she grabbed her bag and decided to find a local deli or food shop and stock up on enough provisions for a couple of days' stay. Upon enquiring with the concierge, he pointed her in the direction of a small market a short walk away and she headed out, having also ascertained the location of the local _polizia_. Once she had eaten, she wanted to make enquiries about her parents' accident, as the sooner she satisfied her morbid curiosity and laid their ghosts to rest, the sooner she could return to London, and move on with the rest of her life. She had already checked out some properties in Cambridge online and had arranged to see a couple when she got back.

Bella quickly found the market, which had everything she needed, after which she decided she was too tired to prepare food, so stopped at the first café she came to. Taking a table outside under the canopy, she ordered a large cup of black coffee with brioche rolls and butter, and pulled out the copy of La Repubblica she had purchased, one of Italy's two national newspapers, to browse while she ate.

After a while, she became aware of a slightly odd sensation—an infinitesimal lifting of the hairs on the back of her neck, a sort of nebulous sensation of… being watched. Looking up from her newspaper, she glanced around her to try and pin down from where the feeling was emanating. The café was only moderately busy—of the dozen or so tables, only four others were occupied, and none of the people present seemed to be taking any notice of her. She shook her head, smiling wryly to herself at her apparent paranoia.

She decided it was as good a time as any to leave the café and, as the police station was on the other side of the main square, she headed back to the Residence to put her shopping away and take a nap. Although she had eventually managed to fall asleep the night before, it had been far from restful and, despite the strong coffee, she was starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation. She wanted to be alert and on the ball when she spoke to the _polizia,_ so she knew it would be wise to try and catch up on her sleep.

Bella started out at a leisurely pace back to L'Etruscu, but as she walked, that same vague feeling of disquiet caused her to pick up speed, and in less than ten minutes she was back in her apartment, much to her relief. Putting it down to lack of sleep and the fact that she was on her own—something she wasn't particularly used to—she quickly dismissed her unease and went about stowing her groceries and unpacking a few things. She then set the alarm on her phone, closed the curtains, pulled back the covers and climbed between the cool, cotton sheets. Minutes later she was sound asleep.

**~o0o~**

Three hours later, feeling refreshed from her blessedly dreamless sleep and a cooling shower, Bella was pushing through the heavy arched doors into Volterra's police station. She had donned a light linen skirt suit in cream, paired with a pale golden silk camisole and low-heeled gold pumps for the walk across town. She wanted to look reasonably business-like and more mature than her seventeen years, needing to ensure that she wasn't waved off with excuses by a potentially misogynistically-inclined Italian police force. In her bag, she carried a copy of the police report issued at the time of the accident which had killed her parents, and now she just wanted to find a sympathetic officer who would show her where it happened.

As she had lain awake in her room at Sarteano the night before, she had given a great deal of thought to why she was doing this. She knew it was morbid and a little irrational, just as she knew it probably wouldn't really lay any ghosts to rest. Charlie and Renee weren't in that unholy place… she didn't expect to feel their presence there, any more than she felt it at their funeral, or when she scattered their ashes over her mother's beloved rose garden at The Minstrels, their family home in Berkshire.

No, it wasn't about those things, but it was something that had been building in her for over a year. At first it had been a barely perceptible, niggling sort of feeling, but ever since this… _thing_ with Edward had kicked off, that little niggle had become a whopping great big tug on her emotions. She just knew that the only way to assuage it was to stand at the spot where life, as she knew it, had ended four years earlier… at least, she hoped it would. The fact was that as she swiftly approached her eighteenth birthday and made plans for university and a life beyond academia and Edward, it seemed like the right time to do this. She had spent the last four years—whenever she was unable to avoid such thoughts—wondering about the where and how and why of her parents' deaths. She had begun to believe that she would never be able to move on from Edward unless she could move on from this.

"_Buon pomeriggio, signorina, come posso aiutarla?"_

Bella was pulled out of her reverie and looked up to see a uniformed police officer gazing at her from behind a desk positioned across from the door.

She smiled at the man, who returned the gesture, waving at the chair on the other side of his desk to indicate that she should take a seat. Bella complied, pulling her bag off her shoulder and resting it on her knees.

"_Oh, __buongiorno__, mi scusi, volevo parlare con qualcuno di un incidente stradale mortale nel 2007," _she responded, delving into her bag and producing a manila envelope containing the accident report, which she put down on the desk and slid towards him.

The officer didn't respond but looked quizzically at the envelope, before picking it up and removing the thin sheaf of papers from within. With a quick glance back at Bella, he began reading silently whilst Bella sat watching him.

After about five minutes, he looked up at her again, then stood, picking up the report.

"_Mi scusi signorina, torno subito__,"_ he told her and then walked quickly across the room and through a door in the back wall.

Bella just nodded and watched him leave, assuming he would be as good as his word, and return quickly. However, twenty minutes later, she was still waiting and was beginning to think he'd forgotten about her. Finally, just as she decided to simply go over and try the door he had disappeared through, it opened and he re-emerged, followed by a short, balding, somewhat rotund man in a short-sleeved shirt and shiny grey trousers, both of which he had clearly grown out of, judging by the obvious strain on their fastenings.

This second man was carrying a file, which he had open and was perusing as he walked towards Bella. When he was just a couple of feet from where she was sitting, he stopped and looked up from what he was reading, giving her a brief smile, whilst his uniformed colleague returned to his chair behind the desk.

"Good afternoon, signorina, I am Ispettore Montalbano. And you are…?" He held out a chubby hand, which Bella took, shaking it firmly.

"Inspector, thanks for taking the time to come and talk to me. I'm Isabella Swan… Charles and Renee Swan were my parents."

"Ahh, Signorina Swan, I am very sorry for your loss… but, uh, 'ow can we 'elp you?"

"Well… I know this is going to sound a bit… weird, but I… wondered if someone could take me to where the accident happened." She smiled at him uncertainly, hoping he would understand and not think she was sixpence short of a shilling.

The Inspector regarded her for a moment, then reached behind him for the second visitor's chair, pulling it over to sit so that he was facing Bella, who had turned towards him. He looked again at the file, then closed it and put it on the desk.

"I don't think I understand, Signorina Swan. My English is perhaps not so good. Are you… uh… _contestando _what 'appened?" he asked, concern etching his round features.

Bella shook her head, smiling. "No, no. Inspector, I'm not disputing the report. And your English is excellent, by the way. I just wanted to see… gosh, I don't know. I just wanted to stand in the spot where they died and… say goodbye, I suppose. I never got to say goodbye… you know?" Bella could feel the tears threatening and took a big breath, swallowing back the emotion.

Ispettore Montalbano leaned forward and took one of Bella's hands where it rested in her lap, his eyes losing their slightly suspicious cast as genuine sympathy suffused his face.

"Ahh, sì, signorina, I understand. You were, I think, very young when they died. This is a great sadness for you." He patted her hand gently, glancing at the desk sergeant, who seemed to be busy filling out forms, and then back to the beautiful girl before him. Sighing, he seemed to come to a decision, dropping her hand and sitting back in his chair.

"I think you must come back tomorrow, signorina. I 'ave… 'ow do you say, men-power problems? Can you give me a number and I will call when someone can take you?"

Bella beamed at the man, dashing away the beginnings of her tears and nodding. "Thank you, Inspector, you're very kind."

He gave her a tentative smile in return, then picked up a small note pad and pen from the desk and offered them to her. Bella quickly wrote down her mobile number and handed the pad and pen back to him. She picked up the accident report she'd brought with her from the desk, thanked the two men and left.

Montalbano watched her leave with a speculative, somewhat sorrowful look on his cherubic face. Then he turned and went back into the inner office, where he picked up the phone and made a call.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Buon pomeriggio, signorina, come posso aiutarla? = _Good afternoon, miss, how can I help you?

_Oh, __buongiorno__, mi scusi, volevo parlare con qualcuno di un incidente stradale mortale nel 2007 =_ Oh hello, I'm sorry, I wanted to speak to someone about a fatal car accident in 2007.

_Mi scusi signorina, torno subito_ = Please excuse me, miss, I'll be right back.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

My heartfelt thanks to my beta, MauiGirl60, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar. I constantly give thanks for their friendship and support.

Now, on with the madness. This is what everything has been building up to. But I warn you, there is violence and mayhem ahead, and if you can't handle it, then I suggest you stop reading after the mention of 'Little Britain'.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO  
**

**Tuesday 26 July 2011 (cont'd)**

Bella walked back into the lobby of L'Etruscu feeling a good deal more upbeat than she had since her friends had all gone home. At the desk, the concierge was talking to a woman who seemed to be having difficulty understanding him, and as Bella entered he looked up and smiled at her with relief, beckoning her over.

It seemed the woman wanted a double apartment, as her husband would be joining her the following day, but there was only a single studio room available, and neither seemed to be able to understand the other's explanation. Bella was happy to translate.

"Oh, that's not going to work," the woman sighed.

"Look, if your husband isn't getting here until tomorrow, then you can move into my apartment because I'll be leaving, hopefully tomorrow afternoon… and if, for some reason, I have to stay another night, I can just take yours, as a single is fine for me."

The woman beamed at her. "Oh wow, would you do that? That is so kind. I'm just too tired to try and find somewhere else, and nobody seems to speak English. Oh, you are a life-saver, thank you."

"No problem, I'll just tell Signor Gionetti, I'm sure it will be fine." Bella turned to the concierge, who was frowning at the two women as he strained to understand what they were talking about. When Bella explained it to him, his face cleared and he smiled at her, taking her hand in both of his and shaking it firmly.

"Grazie, grazie, Signorina Swan." He cast the other woman a slightly irritated look, but was clearly happy to agree to the arrangement they had come up with.

Bella turned back to the woman and smiled. "Well, that all seems to be okay with him, so I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you so much, my dear. I'm Jenny, by the way." She held out her hand and Bella took it with a smile.

"Bella… and I'm happy to help. You're American?"

"God, yeah, sorry—I know we're even worse with languages than the English… oh, sorry, that sounded so rude, as you speak wonderful Italian."

"I don't know about wonderful, but I get by."

"Nonsense, it sounds pretty good to me. Now, tell me—are you here on your own?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I'd say one good turn deserves another, and as I'm on my own until my husband arrives, I would very much like to buy you dinner."

"Oh, really, you don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to, but you'd actually be doing me a favour… another favour, I should say, because I'd just be on my own tonight, and I hate eating alone. Please, say you'll join me."

Bella laughed. "Well, if you insist-"

"I absolutely do… we English-speaking people have to stick together," she laughed.

"Okay, then. I'll meet you down here at, what, six o'clock?"

"Perfect, see you then."

The two women parted and Bella went upstairs. Truth be told, she would also be glad of the company tonight and Jenny seemed really nice.

**~o0o~**

"… So, this guy… Edgar?"

"Edward."

"Right. So you're in love with him, but he doesn't love you back?"

Bella sighed, wishing she had resisted her companion's gentle but persistent enquiries, but she was missing her friends, and Jenny had seemed like a sympathetic listener. However, she was now getting a little uncomfortable with the woman's interest in her affairs. Jenny had given little away, other than to say she was from some one-horse town in upstate New York and that her husband had been due to travel with her but had had to deal with some business emergency and was thus not joining her until tomorrow. Conversely, Jenny had managed to elicit a wealth of information from Bella—her age, her plans for Cambridge, the fact that she was here to find the scene of her parents' accident, and, against her better judgement, something of her relationship with Edward.

Thankfully, she had managed to refrain from telling her about the debacle of their Vegas marriage or his former status as her guardian, merely saying that he was her father's business partner and good friend, with whom she'd been infatuated since she was a child, and that her feelings had recently changed into something much deeper.

Swirling a fingertip around the rim of her wine glass, she stared into the rich, ruby liquid. In a delaying tactic, she then lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink, before placing it carefully back down on the table. Finally unable to prevaricate further, she glanced up and caught Jenny's eye.

"I honestly don't know how he feels. I mean, just recently it seems like he may… care more for me than I used to think, and when we've been… you know… _together_, I feel like there's something there, but… oh, I don't know… I suppose it will all work itself out when I get home."

She smiled, hoping the woman would just drop it, deciding that she really didn't like discussing her relationship with Edward with a complete stranger.

"Do you think there's someone else? Perhaps someone closer to his own age, that he'd have more in common with?" Jenny asked.

"Um, I really don't know. Maybe? I… look, Jenny, I'm sorry, but I'm not altogether comfortable with talking about this with you. No offense, but it's rather private and, well… I hardly know you." Bella cringed slightly, not wanting to offend her, but she just waved it off.

"Of course, no problem, I'm sorry if I was being nosy." She gave a little laugh, which rang a little false, although Bella dismissed it, telling herself it was just her own discomfort making her think that.

"So, anyway, tomorrow you're going to get the police to take you to where your mom and dad crashed their car. Do you think it will help you?"

Bella shrugged, unsure how to answer, as she didn't really know herself.

Jenny reached a well-manicured hand across the table and patted Bella's forearm. "I'm sure it will be fine, honey, but if you need someone to talk to when you get back, just come knock on my door."

Bella gave her a weak smile, but couldn't help wondering why the American was taking such an interest in her, and was starting to find Jenny's attention just a little… creepy. So, when the older woman suggested a nightcap, Bella politely declined, citing the fact that it had been an exceedingly long day and she was exhausted. They left the restaurant, walking the short distance back to the hotel, and parted ways on the first landing, as Jenny went down the hall to her tiny studio apartment, and Bella continued up the stairs to her own, relieved to finally be alone.

**~o0o~**

**Wednesday 27 July 2011**

The following morning, Bella made herself a light breakfast of toasted brioche and tea, wanting to avoid bumping into Jenny at any of the nearby cafés which were open this early. She then called Inspector Montalbano to see when someone would be able to show her to the crash site.

To her surprise, the Inspector was rather terse, not at all the helpful and sympathetic man she had met the day before. He basically told her that he was still short of staff and certainly couldn't spare anyone for such a pointless waste of time, and he wasn't sure when, or even if, he would be able to do so. He then suggested she forget all about it and return home at the earliest opportunity, and, with an abrupt goodbye, hung up.

Bella stared at her phone, thoroughly bemused. She couldn't help wondering if something fundamental had changed since the day before. At first, she was cross with the Inspector and his shitty attitude, and then, as the full import of his words sank in, she felt a crushing disappointment. As often seemed to be the case these days, tears were not far away, and she found herself dropping down onto the sofa, pulling her knees up under her chin and sobbing.

_Why can't one sodding thing go right? Just one. Is that so much to ask?_

Bella's internal _cri de Coeur_ was cut short by the sound of a light tapping on her door. Hoping whoever it was would just go away, she remained unmoving, but then the knocking came again, louder, followed by a familiar voice calling her name.

With a sigh, Bella pushed herself up off the floor, grabbed a tissue from her bag and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Finally, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she opened the door to a worried looking Jenny.

"Hi, Jenny, what's up?" Bella asked, trying her best to disguise her irritation at the intrusion.

"Oh, honey, have you been crying? What happened?" Jenny's voice was laced with concern and Bella felt her shoulders slump.

"Come in." She turned away, leaving the woman to follow her, closing the door behind her. "Would you like some tea? I'm afraid I don't have any coffee."

Jenny wrinkled her nose and declined, walking over to the couch and patting the seat beside her. After a moment, Bella reluctantly joined her, hoping she would be able to get rid of her visitor quickly so that she could give some thought about what she should do next.

"So, spill, honey—what's upset you so much?"

Bella rolled her eyes, but then decided to just go ahead and tell her, explaining what the Inspector had said on the phone, and how unpleasant he'd been about it.

"Which leaves me a bit stuck. Do I hang on and hope he'll be nicer about it tomorrow, or that he'll have the staff tomorrow? Or do I just forget all about it and head home?"

Jenny looked at her speculatively. "So, tell me, what's so mysterious about where this accident took place that you can't just go find it on your own?"

Bella frowned, thinking about it for a moment. "Um, well, the accident report isn't terribly specific. It gives the number of the road and a general indication of where it happened, but… well, I suppose I just assumed that I would need the police to point out the actual place."

"You have the report?"

"Uh, yes, it's here," Bella replied, getting up and retrieving it from her bag, then returning to her seat. She flipped the first page over. "Let's see… yes, here it is." She pointed to a section of the report, which was obviously all in Italian. "It says it happened on SR68, approximately 4 kilometres southwest of the town on a sharp bend… apparently, it's a well-known accident black-spot… says it has, uh, arrows or chevrons or something, marking it, but that my father must have missed it in the dark." She sat and stared at the paper resting on her knees.

"There you go. We should be able to find it from that description."

Bella looked at Jenny, frowning. "We?"

"Of course 'we.' You don't think I'm gonna let you go off on your own, do you? In fact, I insist on driving you, because you're obviously too upset to drive yourself."

"Uh, that's really kind of y—"

"Now that's enough of that, young lady. Go wash your face and put some shoes on, and we'll get going." She stood, reaching for Bella's hand and pulling her up as well, before shooing her into the bathroom.

Feeling a little railroaded, but at the same time a little relieved that she was going to get this over with today, Bella did as she was told, and fifteen minutes later they were sitting in her new friend's sleek German sports car.

"Wow, this is nice—it's a Mercedes SL500, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's great fun." She laughed as she roared out of the town.

**~o0o~**

As Jenny had predicted, it didn't take them long at all to locate the right place, and as soon as they approached the particular bend on the road, it was obvious to both of them they had found what they were looking for. The road itself zig-zagged down through the mountains, and the sharp, elbow turn where Charlie and Renee had crashed through the barrier and plummeted down the mountain was clearly marked as described in the police report.

Jenny pulled the car off the road into a shallow lay-by next to the crash barrier and turned the engine off. Swivelling round to look at Bella, she put her hand out and squeezed her shoulder.

"It doesn't look like there's much to see, sweetheart. What do you want to do?"

Bella looked around her, noting the brightly painted, red and white chevrons on the crash barrier and the sharpness of the bend. Glancing out the passenger window, she shivered a little at the sight of the land on the other side of the barrier falling steeply away. Without looking back at Jenny, she put her hand on the door release.

"Can you just give me a minute, please?" she asked softly as she pushed the door open.

Stepping out of the car, she immediately felt the hot, dry air encase her, in stark contrast to the cool interior of the air-conditioned vehicle, as she stepped across to the edge of the highway. Up close, she could see that the metal barrier was full of dents and replacement sections, and, despite the heat, Bella felt icy fingers wrap around her heart, as bile filled her throat at the thought that this might have been the very piece used to repair the damage caused by her parents' car running off the road. Placing a trembling hand on the top edge, she felt hot tears well up and spill over onto her cheeks, but she ignored them. Shuffling closer to the edge, she peered over the waist-height barricade and looked down into the steep ravine. She had no idea what she expected to see—logically, the wreckage would have been cleared away at the time—and unless she either leaned dangerously forward or climbed over it, the barrier was too far back from the edge for her to see the bottom.

In the end, it was the sound of her phone which caused her to pull back. She assumed it was Jess or Laurie and delved into her small shoulder bag to retrieve it. She frowned when the screen lit up to reveal the call was from an unknown number, and was about to hit 'Ignore' when something—she would never be able to explain what—made her answer it.

"Hello."

"Bella! Thank God! Where are you?"

"Edward? How the hell did you get this number?"

"Jessica gave it to me. Please, tell me where you are."

She sighed, not sure whether to be angry with Jess, or grateful. "I'm in Italy, you know that. Why are you ringing me?"

"Where _exactly_ are you, Bella?"

Bella frowned. There was something odd going on. It sounded like Edward was driving and had his phone in 'hands-free' mode.

"What's this about? I thought—"

"Bella, please, for once in your fucking life, just humour me, okay? Where. Are. You?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm in Volterra… at the crash site, if you must know. It's not far—"

"I know where that is. Are you with anyone?"

"You know where it is? How?"

She heard him sigh loudly on the other end of the phone.

"It doesn't matter—just tell me if you're with anyone."

"Well, not that's it's any of your business, but I'm with a friend, Jenny—"

"Describe her to me."

"_What?!_ For God's sake, Edward, what the hell is up with you?"

"Jesus Christ, Bella, will you just answer the fucking question!"

Behind her, Bella heard a car door open and turned around to see Jenny leaning against the driver's door and regarding her over the roof.

"Is everything okay, Bella?" she asked.

Bella gave her a small smile.

"It's cool, Jenny, it's just some useless tosser being an arse."

On the other end of the phone, she could hear Edward cursing. "Bella, please, can you just tell me—is your friend about five feet tall, with a sort of blonde bob and blue eyes?"

Bella's frown deepened as she glanced across at Jenny. "Uh, yes, but how did you know?" she asked, utterly perplexed now.

"That's not important, but you have to get out of there, away from her."

Bella turned her back on Jenny and lowered her voice.

"Edward, you're not making any sense. I can't just leave, Jenny gave me a lift. What the hell is this all about?"

"Fuck! Then you need to persuade her to drive you back into town right now, can you do that?"

"Edward, you're scaring m—"

Before she could finish what she was saying, her phone was plucked from her hand as she held it to her ear and she swung around to see Jenny step back and raise her arm in the air. The next thing she knew, her phone was flying past her and over the edge of the ravine.

"What the hell, Jenny?!" And it was at that moment that she realised what Jenny was holding in her other hand—an automatic handgun, and it was pointing straight at her chest.

**~o0o~**

On the other end of the phone, Edward heard the line go dead and it felt like a cold, bony hand had smashed into his chest and wrapped its icy fingers round his heart, squeezing the life out of it. In a panic, he pressed redial and felt his guts tie in a knot when it went straight to voicemail.

He had flown into Florence late last night and stayed overnight there so that he could set off early this morning for Volterra. Before leaving New York, he had called Jessica to find out where Bella was staying and to get her new number. He had then headed straight there in the hope of meeting up with Bella so he could go with her to the crash site.

However, on arriving at the Residence L'Etruscu, he discovered that Bella had already departed 'with her friend.' On quizzing the concierge about this mystery friend, he had felt his blood turn to ice water, as he quickly put two and two together.

Jane.

She was here, and she was with Bella on a lonely stretch of dangerous mountain road. What the hell she was up to he couldn't—or didn't want to—figure out, but whatever it was, it could not be anything good.

He ran to his rental car and tore out of town like a bat out of hell. Thank God he had a reasonable idea of where to go. He had a copy of the same police report as Bella, and had lost count of the number of times he'd gone onto Google Earth to look at the place where his friends had died. Now, as he hurtled south out of town, he could only pray that he would get to Bella in time.

**~o0o~**

"What's going on, Jenny? I… I don't understand."

"Sweet little Bella… you really are a stupid bitch." The woman's pretty face morphed into an ugly mask as she said the last words.

Bella gasped at the venom in her voice and the malevolence in her eyes. It occurred to her that the woman might actually be certifiable.

"Jenny, I don't know what you think I've done—"

"My name is Jane, you moron, Jane Volturi… God, and Edward told me you were clever… ha! And you want to know what you've done? Well, I'll tell you, you brainless whore. You've got something I want, and you've taken something which should have been mine. _Capisce?_"

"What could I possibly have that you want?" Bella asked, confused.

"I want Swan Publishing, and I intend to get it. And once he's stopped mooning over you, I'll probably get Edward too."

"You want SP? Why?" Bella was struggling to make sense of what was happening.

"Why not? I could ask you why you deserve to have something like that just handed to you on a plate, without ever having to work for it?"

Bella stared at the woman, unsure how to respond. She was clearly delusional, and it was likely that anything Bella said could make her snap. She was terrified, and desperately tried to control the trembling which threatened to overtake her limbs. She realised from Jane's fairly relaxed demeanour that the one thing—the only thing—she had going for her at this moment was that she had no idea how close Edward was. Of course, Bella didn't know either—he might have just left Florence… hell, he could still be in New York. But then, how would he have known who she was with? That could only mean that he had already been to the hotel in Volterra and was on his way from there now. He could be just minutes away, and Bella needed to keep Jane talking somehow.

Jane, however, had other ideas.

"Well, that's enough chit-chat. I think it's time you and I parted ways. I'm afraid I can't offer you a lift back, but don't worry, my dear, because I know a really quick shortcut you can take down the mountain." At this, she burst out laughing, apparently hugely amused by her own wit.

The sound caused Bella's stomach to tighten and she suddenly felt like she was going to vomit.

_Oh God, this can't be happening… stuff like this just doesn't happen outside trashy thrillers and low-budget TV films._

"Jane, I don't understand why it has to be this way. You already own a sizeable proportion of SP shares, and there's no reason why we can't work together—"

"Shut. Your. Motherfucking _mouth_!"

Bella blanched at the ferocity in the older woman's voice, her fear growing exponentially and threatening to incapacitate her completely, like a deer caught in headlights.

_Breathe—in, out, in, out—and just… oh fucking hell, think, Bella!_

Jane took a step closer and jerked the gun up and down in a 'get moving' gesture.

"Climb over the barrier," she spat, gesturing with the gun again.

Bella's eyes widened and she felt her stomach cramp again—she was going to be sick, of that she had no doubt. She racked her brains for something to say, at the same time wondering if she would even be able to get the words out.

"Jane, please… think about what you're doing. There's no way you can get away with this. People know where I am—"

"Oh, but no one's going to miss you… and even if they do, the police and all your friends know you came up here to be closer to your mom and dad. They also know that you're depressed because Edward dumped you for me. They'll just think you decided life wasn't worth living and threw yourself off at the same place poor old Charlie and Renee learned a car can't fly."

She giggled again at her little joke, and Bella gasped at the pure, unadulterated cruelty of her remark, and at the ghastly plan she had all figured out.

All of which was pretty much the last straw for her stomach, and as Bella felt her mouth flood with saliva, she realised she was, indeed, going to hurl. Immediately, she clapped both hands over her mouth, and lurched forward.

Jane's eyes bulged in her face and she took an instinctive step back as she finally realised what was going to happen.

"Get back, you bitch!" Jane screamed.

Bella ignored her and took another step forward, forcing Jane back against the car.

Then, with a loud retching noise, she dropped her hands and spewed copiously and volcanically.

And then everything seemed to slow down, as she watched her recently-consumed breakfast explode like a geyser out of her mouth, the thought vaguely flittering across her mind that it was just like the racist woman in _'Little Britain'._

Jane shrieked, as vomit hit her chest and arm, coating the pistol and splashing down over her legs and shoes.

"You fucking _bitch_!" she shouted, raising the gun, which had become unwieldy and slippery with the contents of Bella's stomach, and squeezed the trigger.

In the stillness of the empty mountain pass, the shot rang out like a sonic boom, followed immediately by another scream.

In the silence which followed, the sound of a powerful engine heading towards them pulled Jane's attention away from the prone body before her and she suddenly sprang into action, running around the car and jumping into the driver's seat. She grimaced at the growing stickiness on her hand as she tossed the gun onto the passenger seat and turned the ignition key. She bit back her own nausea at the stench of puke inside the car, but nevertheless wasted no time in throwing the car into 'drive' and roaring off down the road, the back end of the Mercedes fishtailing furiously as it fought for grip on the gravel at the edge of the road.

Behind her, the stink of vomit in the escalating heat of the day began to mix with the tang of rust and copper which grew stronger in the still, hot air, as a pool of dark ruby liquid spread like sticky, viscous oil around the semi-conscious girl on the ground.

_This is so random… it was such a bright morning and now it's already getting dark… I don't want to be alone in the dark… Mummy…? don't leave me alone in the dark, Mummy… Daddy… my Daddy… I'm so scared… it's getting so dark… _

_Edward… oh, Edward… I'm never gonna see you again… I'm sorry, Edward… I'm just so sorry… don't hate me, please… I love you so much… I just wish I could've told you, even though you don't love me back… _

_Edward…_

* * *

**End Note:**

You should be aware that with regard to Volterra I have taken a good deal of dramatic licence, as the geographical features described herein do not exist in reality, just in my imagination.

The reference to the 'racist woman' in Little Britain is David Walliams playing a posh middle-class woman at village fetes and such like, who admires and tastes various home baked goods but then, on discovering they've been produced by, let's say, ethnically diverse individuals, projectile vomits in the most obscene manner – if you haven't seen it, you should Google that shit, man, cos it's feckin' funny (and truly gross)!


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

A big thank you, as always, to my beta, MauiGirl60, together with Cared and Midnight Cougar. Thanks are also due again to mydelirium for help with the Italian translations.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

Edward floored the accelerator and punched 113 into his phone. Interminable seconds later, the police emergency number was answered and Edward explained as calmly as he could, in his best Italian, that his wife had been abducted and was currently under threat from a woman who had driven her out to the elbow of the SR68, 4 kilometres south west of Volterra, and that he feared that she was in grave danger.

They kept him on the phone for some time, and although this irritated him, he was, at the same time, grateful for the distraction, because if he thought too much about what that crazy bitch might do to his Bella, he would surely go insane.

Finally, he was told that a squad car had been dispatched and that he should await their arrival—he hoped to God he wouldn't need them, but he was deeply pessimistic about the outcome.

When Bella as good as identified Jane as her companion, only for her phone to go dead the very next second, Edward could only think the worst. At first, he tried to tell himself that he had to be wrong, that Jane surely wouldn't do anything to harm Bella—that it simply wasn't feasible that she would act in such an irrational and unhinged manner. But then, as he threw the powerful Mercedes saloon car into each bend, accelerating hard out of every corner, he began to think about the icy coldness and the malice which lay behind that almost child-like prettiness. She could certainly come across as charming and fun-loving, but he had seen the way she looked at Rose that day in his office and it had chilled him to the bone. Undoubtedly, her father, Aro, was a ruthless bastard, but there had also been stories going around for years about his younger brother, Caius, being a complete psychopath, and it was entirely possible it was from an inherited gene.

Edward sucked in a huge breath, forcing himself not to think such things, but just moments later, every nightmarish scenario became fully realised in a tableau which would undoubtedly haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

As he tore out of the last bend before the crash site, he saw in the distance a lone woman standing beside a car, looking down at a small heap on the ground. As he got closer, the woman looked up and he could now clearly see that it was Jane.

_Where the fuck is Bella?_

As he watched, the woman spun and threw herself into the car, and before he could get there the vehicle was wheel spinning and then roaring off down the road. Edward's instinct was to stamp on the accelerator and go in pursuit, but then, in his peripheral vision, the heap of what had looked like clothes drew his attention and as he looked, his unwilling mind was forced to recognise it for what it was.

_BELLLLAAA!_

Edward brought his car to a sliding halt and was out the door before he'd even put it in park. He dropped to his knees, heedless of the gravel and shale which dug into his flesh, as he pulled the bleeding girl into his arms and clasped her to his chest.

"Bella… oh, Jesus… Bella!"

Barely coherent in speech or in thought, he slipped his hand up to support her lolling head, unable to comprehend that she might not be alive.

"Goddammit, Bella, don't you fucking die on me… don't you fucking dare!"

And then, as he held her, he felt the faint and horrifyingly erratic thrum of her heart against his chest, causing him to pull back to look at her face. All colour had been drained from it, making the blue veins beneath her skin stand out in stark contrast, but he could just discern a flicker of movement behind her almost translucent eyelids.

_Thank God, thank God, thank God. _

It was enough, and, slipping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, he braced himself and stood. Turning to the car, he gently slid her into the passenger seat and started to examine where the blood was coming from. She appeared to have been shot in the left side of her abdomen and was haemorrhaging blood. He needed to apply pressure, but couldn't do that and drive at the same time. He ripped his shirt off and wadded it into a ball, which he then pressed hard against the wound.

"Ahh, Jesus, Bella," he whispered. He looked at her beautiful face, the pallid skin stretched taut and her once cherry lips now fading to mauve.

He had to get her to a hospital, and racked his brains to think where it was. He was almost certain he had passed some kind of medical facility on the way in from the airport, but had it been a hospital? There was no time for errors and he was afraid to take the pressure off Bella's wound, which meant he couldn't drive.

Tears coursed down his cheeks, and he reached out to stroke her hair. He was going to lose her and he had no idea what to do.

_Please, please, if there's a God, please save her. Take me, but don't let her die. If she dies, I might as well be dead anyway. Please, please, please…_

As Edward chanted his plea to a higher power, he suddenly became aware of sirens in the distance. Blinking, he looked around, and moments later, the flashing red and blue lights of a police car hove into view.

The next few minutes were a blur as the police car braked beside him and the officer riding shotgun quickly exited the vehicle and came round to where Edward crouched by the open passenger door, still holding the balled up shirt against Bella's side, terrified at the amount of blood which had now soaked into it, turning it from white to deep maroon. Beside him, the officer quickly assessed the problem and decided there wasn't time to wait for an ambulance. Speaking rapidly into his radio, he helped Edward to lift Bella into the back seat of the car so that he could sit with her and continue to apply pressure to her wound, whilst the officer got behind the wheel. They were then speeding up the road at breakneck speed, the police car in front with sirens blaring and lights flashing.

Oblivious to where they were going or the reckless speed at which they were travelling, Edward held onto Bella as though the strength of his grip alone would keep her tethered to life. Never relinquishing pressure on the bullet hole from which her precious life-blood continued to spill, he whispered desperate entreaties, both to her and to God.

"Stay with me, B, please. You can't leave me, I won't let you. You have to fight, Bella…"

He watched her face intently for any sign that she could hear him.

"Bella… come on, baby, don't give up. I love you, Bella… I can't live in a world where you don't exist… Bella, please, hold on… you have to hold on. It's gonna be okay, baby, you'll see. I love you, please don't leave me."

Edward's voice cracked, and he couldn't stop the tears. With one arm wrapped tightly around her, holding her body against him, and the other pressing his blood-soaked shirt to her side, he couldn't wipe them away, so he just buried his face in the long sweep of her neck. He couldn't imagine never being able to inhale that sweet, intoxicating scent ever again, and pulled it into his lungs like a drowning man sucking in oxygen. He pressed his mouth to her neck, feeling the fragile flutter of her pulse beneath his lips.

And he wept.

He wept for her pain and the life which was slowly but surely ebbing away. He wept for the loss he knew he would never come to terms with. And he wept for the time he'd foolishly squandered when he could have been with her. But most of all, he wept for the beautiful girl in his arms, so cruelly robbed of a future, and for all those who loved her, whose lives would be forever blighted by her absence.

Shifting around, without letting her go, he pressed his mouth to hers, once so soft and pliant, now dry and cold and unresponsive. His tears rolled down his face, wetting her skin until he could taste their saltiness on her lips as they moved slightly against his…

Edward gasped, pulling back just far enough to be able to look into Bella's eyes.

Eyes which were open… albeit they were heavy with fatigue, and he knew it must be taking an enormous effort to keep them open.

"Edwarrr," she whispered.

"Shhh, don't try to talk."

"Wha…?"

"Everything's okay, baby, we're on the way to the hospital. You're going to be fine, just hold on."

Her eyes flickered and then closed, but after a moment she forced them open again and looked intently into his.

"Love you…" The words were no more than a whisper, barely audible. Her eyes drooped and closed again, and, for one ghastly, sickening moment, Edward thought she was gone, but then, with what was clearly one more Herculean effort, she pulled in a tremulous breath and spoke, her words like dandelion floss on the breeze.

"Don' le' me go."

"Never, Bella. I will _never_ let you go."

And then they were stopping, jerking Edward and causing Bella's head to roll onto his shoulder. He looked up to see they had pulled up in front of the exact same facility that Edward had recalled passing on his way in from Florence, and to his relief, medical staff were waiting for them, apparently alerted by the officer in the lead car.

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity, as the car door was flung open and capable hands were pulling Bella away from Edward and placing her gently on a gurney by the hospital entrance. He quickly climbed out of the car and was by her side in an instant, taking her cold hand in his as the staff rushed her through the doors and down a long corridor.

And then he was being pushed aside as the nurse told him they would take it from there. Stricken to be parted from her, he held on to her hand until the very last moment as they wheeled her towards a set of rubber swing doors, and just before he had to let go he suddenly felt a slight pressure on his fingertips… and then she was gone.

Stunned, he just stood in place, looking at the doors through which she had disappeared, feeling his heart constrict at the thought that it might, literally, be the last time he ever saw her alive.

He dropped his head and tried to shake off the doom-laden feeling that threatened to defeat him.

"_Signore__?"_

Slowly, like a bear awakening from a long hibernation, Edward lifted his head and looked around at the policeman standing beside him.

"_Mi scusi __signore__, ma dobbiamo farle alcune domande__,"_ the man said.

Edward blinked and went to rub his face with both hands, only to realise he was still clutching his blood-sodden shirt in his right hand. He stared at it, as if he couldn't quite understand what it was, and then looked at the policeman.

The officer gave him a look of compassion, putting a hand briefly on Edward's shoulder. He reached out with his other hand and gently extracted the shirt from Edward's unresisting hold, before suggesting that he should clean himself up and he would wait for him in the family room on the floor above.

Edward nodded distractedly and allowed the man to guide him in the direction of the bathroom.

Inside, he walked up to the basins, feeling like a zombie, and when he caught sight of himself in the mirror he realised he looked like one, too. Dressed in jeans and what had been a white, sleeveless undershirt, he was appalled to discover that he was covered in Bella's blood. He couldn't stop himself thinking about the pool of blood on the road, and the saturated shirt the officer had taken from him, which, when added to the amount which had soaked into his singlet and jeans, seemed to be a life-threatening amount to have lost. He looked down at his hands and arms, which looked as if he had dipped them in a pot of red paint, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desperate need to scrub it all away.

Angrily turning the taps on full blast, he pumped soap onto his hands, and began to scrub his skin the best he could, using handfuls of wetted paper towels.

He scrubbed until his arms were raw, only stopping when his nails broke the skin and pinpricks of his own blood welled out of the scratches. Staring at what he'd done, he was suddenly overcome by racking sobs, his whole body shaking, until his legs gave way and he crumpled to the floor, sitting back heavily and banging his head against the vanity unit. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, dropping his head and letting the tears fall.

He had no idea how long he sat there weeping, but eventually he was distracted by the sound of the door opening, and he watched as dark trousers and heavy, black lace-up shoes walked forward and stopped in front of him. He didn't look up—his head was way too heavy to lift, but after a moment the man crouched down and held out a set of folded green scrubs. He looked at the offering, dumbfounded for a moment and then finally managed to raise his eyes to see that it was the cop from earlier.

"Signore, your wife, she is today operated… you understand?" He gestured again with the scrubs, then set them down on the floor beside Edward.

"You put on, come out to resting room?" He looked at Edward for a moment, then stood and walked out.

Another minute or two passed, and then Edward wearily pushed himself up. He picked up the scrubs and laid them out on a dry part of the vanity. He toed off his trainers, stripped off his singlet and jeans and carefully washed as much of the remaining dried, sticky blood off his skin as he could, finishing by washing his face. He dressed in the scrubs and his Nikes, which he had wiped down as best he could, and threw everything else in the bin. He would pay for the scrubs, if necessary, but he never wanted to see those clothes again, with or without the bloodstains.

He ran his hands through dampened hair and looked long and hard at himself. Then he turned and walked out of the bathroom.

**~o0o~**

At first, Edward was glad of the distraction of answering questions and filling out the hospital paperwork. Having to concentrate on communicating in Italian, meant that he couldn't dwell too much on what was happening to the woman he loved just a few metres away.

However, after a while he started to become aware of the passage of time and when he chanced to glance up at the clock he was astonished and horrified to see that it was almost two 0'clock. He recalled that he had got to Bella's hotel just before ten that morning, which meant that he would have found her at about 10.30, and it couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen minutes later that they arrived at the hospital—how could so much time have gone by and no one had come to tell him what was going on?

He stood, excusing himself to the police officer, and headed out to find the nurses' station. However, he discovered that, like hospitals the world over, no one could tell him anything, except that Bella was still in surgery, and he was urged to return to the family room and wait for the doctor to come and find him.

With nothing else to do, he complied with the nurse's request and went back to wait. The police officer told him that he had no further questions for the moment, but that he had put out what Edward supposed was the equivalent of an All-Points Bulletin to pick up Jane Volturi for questioning in a possible attempted murder investigation. He gave Edward a card with his name and a phone number on it, saying he had to get back to headquarters but that Edward should call him when Bella woke up. He said a detective would probably be there later to ask him some more questions. Finally, he offered Edward his hand and wished him luck.

And then he was gone and Edward was alone.

Retrieving his phone from the pocket of his scrubs, he stared at it for a while, wondering who to call. He had never felt so alone in his entire life, and he wished, for the first time since he was a teenager, that he could simply call his mother or father and bare his soul to them—and have them drop everything to be by his side.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath to ward off yet more tears, he unlocked his phone, scrolled through his numbers until he found the one he wanted and pressed 'call'.

"Edward, what the hell are you ringing me for? You're supposed to be romancing your girl… please don't tell me you're calling because you've fucked up again."

"Rose…" Edward was surprised at how hoarse his voice was, but he supposed all that crying and then talking to the police for hours would do that to a man. He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Edward? What's wrong?" Rose's voice sounded a little echoey, but there was no disguising the concern.

"Rose…" he whispered, fighting to control his emotions… without success.

"Edward, talk to me—you're scaring me. What's happened?"

Edward couldn't help but reflect on the irony of Rose's choice of words—hadn't that been the last coherent thing Bella had said to him just a short few hours and a lifetime ago?

"_Edward! _Talk to me."

He sucked in a lungful of oxygen and tried again.

"It's Bella… she's in the hospital… Jane was here… oh fuck, Rose, Bella's been shot." And that was all he could say before his throat closed and he let out a sob of endless grief.

Rosalie's initial shock forestalled all the questions she wanted to ask, and by the time she had got her head round what he had said, she realised that bombarding him now would not help. She waited until it seemed he had himself under control and then, forcing herself to keep her voice modulated, she asked him softly if he could tell her where he was.

Sniffing, Edward reached for a tissue from the box which had been considerately placed on the coffee table nearest to him. He wiped his eyes and his nose and took a couple of deep breaths.

"I'm in a hospital in Volterra, Rose. I don't what it's called." _Deep breath_. "Jane was here, she took Bella up to the crash site and… she fucking shot her, Rose. She shot my girl…" _Deep breath._

"Take it easy, Edward. You don't have to tell me everything now. And if she's in the hospital then she's alive, so there's hope. Do you hear me, Edward… there_ is_ hope."

"Thanks, Rose," he whispered. "Um, do you think you could call Jessica Carrington-Stanley or Lauren Mallory… if I email you their numbers? I can't… they're her best friends… family, really… and I don't think I can…"

"It's okay, Edward, I'll do it. Are they still in Italy?"

"Uh, I don't think so—I think they went back to London. I just don't want them to find out by seeing it on the news or something, you know?"

"Sure, no problem. Just send me the numbers and I'll call them right away before I leave for work. So, I guess they arrested that crazy bitch?"

"What?"

"Jane. Hopefully, they'll lock her up and throw away the key… hey, do they have the death penalty in Italy?"

"Rose, Rose—she's not in custody… she got away."

"Shit! So what are the police doing? Is anyone there with you?"

Silence.

"Edward… you're not alone there, are you?"

"There's no one here, Rose. The police have issued an APB to pick her up, and they said a detective would come up here later. Why… you don't think she'll try again, do you?"

Rose realised she'd probably said the wrong thing, but she couldn't help be concerned.

"Look, I'm sure you're right. Let me call the girls and then, when I get to work, I'll find a number for the police station and just give them a call to get an update—"

"The cop who was here gave me a number, I'll put it in the email. Yeah, an update… that's a great idea. Thanks, Rose. And you'll call me back when you've talked to them, even if there's no news?"

"Of course. And the same goes for you. Um, where's Bella now, Edward?"

_Deep breath_. "She's still in surgery… it's been hours. Oh God, Rose, what if she doesn't make it?"

"Now, stop that. You can't think like that. If she's been in surgery all this time, it means she's hanging in there, and you need to hang in there too, for her. That girl is way too stubborn to give up without a fight. She's gonna be okay, Edward, and when she wakes up, you tell her we're all thinking of her."

Edward nodded, but then realised she couldn't see him. "Okay, Rose…" _Deep breath_. "Uh…"

"Send me those numbers, and I'll call you when I get to the office… okay?"

"Yeah, right… thanks, Rose."

"No problem. I'll talk to you later. Take care, Edward."

He hung up and went straight into his email to compose a message. He copied Jessica's and Lauren's numbers and then typed in the name and number from the card the policeman had given him.

When he'd sent the email, he went back out to the nurses' station to see if they'd forgotten he was there. The nurse who'd spoken to him earlier looked up and frowned a little, but then she must have felt sorry for him, because she got up and came around the counter. She put her hand on his arm and smiled up at him. Then she told him to go and get a cup of coffee in the café downstairs and she would see if she could find out if there was any news.

He nodded, giving her a grateful smile and turned away.

**~o0o~**

As it turned out, there wasn't really any news. When he got back with his coffee and a snack bar, he went in search of the nurse, but she couldn't tell him anything other than that they were still operating and that, although Bella was critical, they had managed to stabilise her.

Edward muttered a quiet thanks and returned to the waiting room, but he found it impossible to settle. Nightmare scenarios kept drifting through his mind, and not having anyone to talk to meant that he could do little to stop them. So when his phone rang, he could have wept with gratitude.

It was Jessica.

An emotional fifteen minutes later, it was clear that there would be no stopping Bella's two BFFs getting on the first flight to Florence, and, although he thought it was likely they would drive him crazy, he had to admit he was glad they would be here.

Next was Rose. He thanked her for letting the girls know and told her they were flying over, and then he gave her what little news he had about Bella's status. She told him she had called Volterra _polizia_ and spoken to an Ispettori Montalbano, who, although he spoke English, wasn't very helpful, saying he was short of staff so would have to go to the hospital himself, which he couldn't do until he had dealt with something else. Feeling like she was getting nowhere with him, she called the American Embassy in Milan, to see if they would be able to get a better response. She said she had laid it on thick about Bella being a prominent society girl, married to an American, and owner of a major Anglo-American publishing company, and they had promised to investigate and come right back to her.

Edward couldn't help but smile at Rose's dogged determination, knowing it was her way of dealing with a crisis.

The next call was from Emmett, and Edward had almost sobbed to hear his best friend's voice. He immediately told Edward he was flying into Milan that night and would be with him the following morning; when Edward tried to tell him that he didn't need to bother—that it was too far—Emmett got cross and told him he was looking after his investment, and besides, Rose had already bought the ticket.

Edward sniffed, unable to respond for a moment—_deep breath_. "Thanks, Em."

They talked for another few minutes, and by the time they hung up Edward was feeling a little better.

However, the feeling quickly dissipated as his worry for Bella rolled back over him. He was just about to go in search of the nurse again when the glass door to the waiting area swung open and a middle aged man who was clearly a surgeon walked into the room, his eyes immediately settling on the only occupant. The man was dressed in scrubs and looked exhausted.

Edward tried hard to look at the man's face, but it was impossible to disregard the blood splattered and smudged across the hems of his scrub bottoms and the plastic coverings on his shoes.

Bella's blood.

Edward clapped a hand across his mouth to stop himself crying out.

_No._

It was the only word in his head. _No._

As the man approached, Edward's gaze finally flickered up, to be met by tired but compassionate hazel eyes.

"_Signore _Cullen? I am Doctor Malfi." He held out his hand and Edward took it automatically, with a brief nod.

Edward could barely bring himself to speak, his voice, when he did, little more than a hoarse whisper. "Is she…?"

He spoke in English, his fluent Italian apparently forgotten. Fortunately, it was clear from the doctor's introduction that he spoke excellent English.

"Your wife is out of surgery and is stable, _Signore_ Cullen. She lost a great deal of blood—almost forty percent—and went into cardiac arrest twice before we could get her stabilised. The bad news is that the bullet ruptured your wife's spleen, and we had to remove it. The good news is that it missed her kidney and although it nicked her large intestine, we were able to repair the damage. Currently, we have her in an induced coma in order to help her body concentrate on repairing itself."

"A coma? Jesus…"

"Please, _Signore_ Cullen, let's sit down for a moment." He gently guided Edward back to his chair and took a seat next to him.

"Is she… will she recover?" Edward was almost afraid to ask the question, and the doctor's solicitousness was making him anxious.

"Your wife has been subjected to a major trauma, and I won't lie to you, _Signore_, she is still in a critical condition. The loss of her spleen is not a huge problem, but it does mean that in future she will have a compromised immune system, and should she ever suffer from any kind of blood disorder her body will struggle to produce sufficient red blood cells to help her fight it. But there are drugs which can help and this is not my worst concern."

Edward swallowed turning away from the doctor and putting his face in his hands. "What else?" he mumbled through his fingers.

"Well, we don't know yet how much damage, if any, has been done to your wife's internal organs by the potential lack of oxygen to her liver and kidneys. If she gets through the next twenty four hours without going into renal failure, then she has an excellent chance of making a full recover."

Edward dropped his hands and looked at the doctor. "So, what, we just wait?"

"I'm afraid that's all we can do now. But she's young and she's strong, and I have no doubt she's a fighter,_ Signore_."

Edward nodded, giving the man a weak smile. "Yeah, she's that, all right."

Malfi patted Edward on the shoulder and stood up. Edward looked up at him.

"Can I see her?"

"You can, but you will need to change into sterile scrubs and wear a mask, at least until we can be sure there is no risk of infection."

Edward nodded and stood, then followed the doctor out of the waiting room to the nurses' station. As Malfi turned and started to walk away, Edward called to him, making him pause and turn around.

"What if she goes into renal failure, doctor?"

At first he didn't think the doctor was going to respond, but then the man took a breath and spoke.

"There is a small chapel downstairs, _Signore._ I suggest you pay a visit and pray to whatever God you believe in that that doesn't happen."

He turned and walked away.

* * *

**End Note:** I have zero medical training or knowledge, so although I have tried to stay true to the research I did, you will need to allow for literary licence when it comes to Bella's condition.

**Translation:**  
_Mi scusi signore, ma dobbiamo farle alcune domande_I'm sorry, sir, but I need to ask you some questions.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

My thanks, as ever, to MauiGirl60, Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR  
**

As Edward stood at the end of Bella's bed, he couldn't help but be reminded of the last time he'd seen her. She had been so alive, so vital, even in her anger and recriminations.

Now she looked so tiny, so fragile… and yet, still so heartbreakingly beautiful.

There seemed to be wires everywhere—in her arms, her hands, her nose, snaking across her pale skin and connecting her to machines and IVs. She was also intubated, and the respirator helping her breathe made a flat, rhythmic sound in ghastly harmony with the beeping of the heart and BP monitors.

Bella's natural pallor was exacerbated to the point where she seemed almost transparent against the white sheets, her dark hair spread out on the pillow only serving to emphasise her pallor.

He turned to the nurse, frowning, wanting to know why she wasn't breathing on her own. She explained that this was just to help her whilst she remained in the induced coma, and that once they brought her out of it, they would remove the tube and she would be able to breathe for herself.

She patted his arm, telling him he should talk to his wife, and then, with a reminder not to remove his mask, she left him alone.

He looked around, spotting a padded vinyl chair in the corner and dragged it round to the side of the bed. Sitting down, he shuffled as close to the bed as he could, and then slowly reached out to take hold of her hand where it lay, pale and limp, atop the bed covers. Enveloping it in both of his, he marvelled at how tiny it was… and how cold. He had to be careful not to knock or dislodge the catheter inserted into the back of her hand, holding it gently, like a priceless piece of objet d'art or a tiny, fragile little animal.

For the next several hours he sat on the uncomfortable chair, holding Bella's hand and telling her everything—about his past, his feelings of abandonment by his biological family and his love for Charlie and Renee; he told her how proud of her they had been and would be now; and he told her about all the women he'd never permitted to get close to him… until her.

"You've got under my skin, B… it's like… shit, I don't know. It's like you've become part of my DNA or something, and when I'm not with you, or I can't see you, or even talk to you, it's… Jesus, Bella, I can't fucking breathe… you know?

"And I thought… I mean, I just assumed you had a crush on me or something, that you'd just grow out of it and then you'd go to university and meet lots of suitable guys… and probably a few unsuitable ones, and that would be the best thing for you. I mean, why would you want to tie yourself to a moody fucker like me, someone fourteen years older than you? And we're so different, you and I.

"The thing is, I just wanted what was best for you, I just wanted you to be happy… and I thought, if you tied yourself to me, you'd regret it. And I was so scared to let you love me… and I was terrified to… _Jesus…_"

He pulled one of his hands away from hers, as if to run it through his hair, but then realised he couldn't because he was wearing a surgical cap. He wrapped it back around hers, fighting the urge to bring it to his masked lips, and let his gaze fall upon her face again.

"I tried so hard not to fall for you, Bella… Christ, you have no idea how hard I tried." He shook his head, looking back at their joined hands, stroking the back of hers with his thumb, then rubbing back and forth across her bare ring finger.

He let out a rueful chuckle, which sounded hollow and defeated, even to his own ears.

"But you know what, B? I'm a big, fat failure, because I'm so in love with you, I can't think straight. The thought of losing you…" His voice cracked and a dry, racking sob burst out of him as he dropped his head to the covers and wept.

**~o0o~**

Edward had no idea how much time had passed when he woke, but his back was stiff and painful and he needed to use the bathroom urgently.

Straightening up with a groan, he gently released Bella's hand and stood up, walking slowly to the keypad-operated door and exiting, with one more quick look over his shoulder.

He realised it must be late, as the lighting had been dimmed and the corridors were really quiet. Rounding the corner, he came to the ICU nurses' station, where a nurse he hadn't previously met sat quietly filling out charts. She looked up and smiled at him as he approached, pointing him in the direction of the waiting area and the vending machines when he asked where he could get something to eat and drink.

He used the bathroom and headed to the Family Room to get a can of Coke and something to snack on—he was shocked to note that it was gone ten o'clock, so it was no wonder he was so hungry and thirsty. He pushed open the door and stopped dead.

Occupying one sofa were Jessica, Lauren and a young man he didn't recognise, who looked to be in his early 20s, and on the opposite sofa were two older women, who were so obviously the mothers of the two girls it was almost surreal.

Jessica noticed him first.

"Edward!" She leapt to her feet and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

"Oh, Edward…" and then she burst into tears.

Before he could say anything, Lauren had joined them, turning it into a group hug.

"Come on, girls," a soft voice said to his left and he lifted his head to see the woman who must be Jessica's mother place a hand on the two girls' shoulders.

"Come on, now, give Edward some space… he looks exhausted." She looked at him with deep compassion, and he was suddenly glad he'd been unable to dissuade Bella's friends from coming. He'd never felt so alone as he had in these last eight or nine hours, and he was overcome with gratitude that all these people who loved Bella were here—even if they probably didn't love _him_ very much right now.

Extricating himself from the hug, he turned and smiled wearily, holding his hand out.

"You must be Mrs Carrington-Stanley, thank you for being here for Bella."

"My name is Lydia—much less of a mouthful—and we're here for you too, Edward." Her smile was warm and genuine, and Edward was utterly nonplussed.

"For me…? but…I mean, I've been such a dick—"

The woman smiled sadly. "Undoubtedly, Edward, but I suspect those days are over." She gave him an appraising look, and he could only nod dumbly.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his arm and looked around to see a furious Lauren, who had apparently just punched him.

"They better be over, birdbrain!"

Edward grimaced and rubbed his arm. "I guess I deserved that."

The other woman came up and put her arm round Lauren's shoulders, holding out her hand.

"Howdyadoo, Cullen, I'm Pandora Mallory."

Edward shook her hand, a little surprised at the firmness of her grip.

"It's good to meet you, Lady Mallory."

"Tish tosh, none of that Lady nonsense, it's just Pandora… friends call me Panda. And good Lord, yes, I'm starting to see the appeal now. All that sex hair and lantern jaw—you've got the look of a man who could impregnate a girl at fifty paces… sperm like torpedoes, I'll be bound!"

Edward just stared at her, utterly speechless.

"Oh Ma, do reel it in, for God's sake!" Lauren rolled her eyes at her mother and then turned back to Edward. "Take no notice of the old girl, she's got bats in the belfry."

He felt Jessica's hand on his forearm and turned to look at her.

"How is she?" she whispered.

Before he could answer, Edward's attention was distracted by the young man, hitherto unidentified, who had now joined everyone else and was staring daggers at Edward.

"Yes, and while we're at it, what the hell happened—is this down to you, Cullen?"

Edward was taken aback by the young man's obvious fury. "Uh, and you are…?"

It was Jessica's mother who spoke up.

"Jules, stop it, you're not helping. Edward, I'm sorry, this is my son, Jules. He and Bella have been friends for as long as she and Jess have known one another. Please forgive him, he's… a little upset—"

"Don't make excuses for me, Mum—I want to know what happened and why."

Edward sighed and rubbed his face. He was so unbelievably tired, but he, more than anyone, understood Jules' anger and frustration.

"Let's all sit down shall we." He went over to the seating area and dropped heavily into the nearest couch.

"In answer to your question, Jules… yes, this _is_ down to me; I'm the reason Bella is fighting for her life right now, and I will never forgive myself."

There was a collective gasp, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Then he began to speak.

An hour later he had told them everything, including that he and Bella had got married in Las Vegas, which triggered various exclamations from the two mothers and Jules, who all had a hard time believing that it had happened and, perhaps even more surprisingly, that Jessica and—especially—Lauren had kept it a secret. He finished by giving them an update on Bella's current condition and prognosis. The questions had started, but then Lydia had called a halt, saying they were all exhausted and should try and get some sleep.

Lydia explained that they all had rooms at a nearby hotel, and with Bella at least stabilised and being kept in a coma until the following day, there was little they could do by staying at the hospital. Edward was reluctant to leave her, but both Lydia and Pandora insisted that he needed to rest and eat some proper food in order to stay strong for her, so he agreed to go to L'Etrusco, where he would use Bella's apartment—at least there he would have some sense of her, and he had to admit he would be glad of a shower and a change of clothes.

They all left, with a promise to meet for breakfast in a small nearby café early the following morning, and Edward collected his bag from the car before heading off to claim Bella's rooms at L'Etruscu, which was just a short walk from the hospital. When he explained to the elderly concierge what had happened and that he would be taking over the apartment for the foreseeable future, the man expressed sincere sympathy, telling Edward he could keep the room as long as he needed, and saying that he hoped Edward's '_bella signora'_ would soon recover.

Up in Bella's apartment, Edward moved through the space, picking up discarded clothing, which he couldn't resist burying his face in to inhale her scent, and various possessions, which he handled like holy relics. Finally, he stripped and got in the shower, using her shampoo and shower gel to wash away the remnants of this awful day, wanting to smell of her.

As the hot water cascaded down over his weary body, he hung his head and let the tears fall. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, and after a few moments, he felt the last of his strength desert him as his knees buckled and he crumpled in a heap on the tiled floor. Rivulets of steamy water slid across the planes and valleys of skin stretched over muscle and bone, mingling with his tears and washing them away.

At last, exhausted but somewhat composed, he got to his feet and turned off the cooling water. He dried himself off and stumbled out of the bathroom, collapsing on the bed and burying his face in the pillow. He could still faintly detect the scent of Bella's hair, which comforted him—it may just have been wishful thinking, but it transported him quickly, and gratefully, into sleep.

**~o0o~**

**Thursday 28 July 2011**

Sadly, although sleep came swiftly, it was neither comforting nor sustained. Little more than an hour or so later, he was pulled reluctantly but effortlessly into consciousness before the dawn could even begin to lighten the sky. Unable to relax sufficiently to sleep further, he got up and dressed, knowing that if anything were to happen to Bella whilst he slept, it would be just one more stupid decision he'd spend the rest of his life regretting.

In the kitchen, he smiled sadly when he discovered the food Bella had bought barely 24 hours earlier. He made himself a quick but filling breakfast of cheese, salami and focaccia, and grabbed an apple to take with him as he left the apartment to walk back to the hospital. He had left the rental car there the night before, as he couldn't bear to see and smell Bella's blood all over the passenger and back seats. He would call the rental company today and get them to replace it, as he knew he would never be able to face it.

On the way, he texted Jessica to let her know he wouldn't be meeting everyone for breakfast but would see them at the hospital whenever they got there. He then made his way directly to ICU, where the night staff were still on duty. They quickly found him clean scrubs to change into, together with a cap and mask.

Thankfully, there had been no change during the few hours he'd been away, so he returned to his vigil in the chair beside Bella's bed, took her hand in his and started talking again.

He told her what an amazing life she was going to have. She would go to Cambridge and do all the things students did—make friends, go to parties, dance the night away, let some handsome boy pole a punt down the River Cam whilst she lay back, supine, with the sun on her face… and, his voice faltering, he told her she would fall in love with a far better man than he would ever be.

"I want you to do everything and anything you want, Bella. And if you… if you meet a nice boy, then you should date him and share all the experiences of college life with him. And _when_ you get past this, then I promise I'll let you go, if that's what you want. I'm done telling you what to do, B. All that stuff I got so wound up about, it's just… none of it matters now. I just want you to live and be happy, and if that's without me, then so be it. If the price I have to pay for you to survive this is to never see you again, then I'll pay it, gladly. It'll hurt like hell, but better to be without you, knowing you're living a good life somewhere in the world, than to go on... fuck, I can't even think about… Jesus, Bella, you have to live."

Heedless of the tears which ran down his unshaven face and dripped relentlessly onto the bed sheets, he lifted her hand to his covered mouth and kissed her fingertips. So intent on the excruciating pain inflicted by thoughts of her possible demise, he didn't register the very slight change in the beep of Bella's heart monitor, which, in any case, quickly returned to its previous rhythm.

He took a deep breath and gazed at her waxen and immobile face. "When we get back to London, we can talk about the company. I'll stay on to run things whilst you're recuperating and at college, but once you want to take up the reins, I'll sort out finding a new CEO to run the UK operation. I'll keep out of the way, and concentrate on the American business. That way, if you would prefer not to deal with me, it should be pretty easy for us to avoid one another. Emmett's on board now, did you know? Shit, no, I didn't get a chance to tell you. He inherited a fortune from some crazy aunt and he's asked Rose to marry him, and we managed to secure enough shares for him to keep the Volturis out. And once Jane's been arrested, we may be able to find a way to prove she obtained her shares illegally—Emmett's looking into that already, so…

"Of course, I won't let you be on your own until that crazy bitch has been apprehended and, hopefully, locked away for the rest of her worthless life. I can get you bodyguards—yeah, yeah, I know you'll hate that, but it's just until we know you're going to be safe…"

Edward continued on in this vein for some time, his voice cracking and breaking at times, his mouth and throat becoming bone dry and sore because he couldn't bring himself to leave Bella's side to get a drink. Completely focussed on the pale, unmoving girl in the bed and the steady click and whoosh of her respirator, he was unaware either of the passage of time, or the presence of others who took it in turns to watch through the large glass observation panel overlooking the unit.

Some hours after arriving, a nurse came into the room to check Bella's vitals and IV. She smiled at Edward, suggesting that he take the opportunity to use the bathroom and get a drink whilst she tended to Bella. Reluctantly, he stood, leaned over to gently kiss her forehead through his mask, and slowly left the room. Outside, he was surprised to find Jessica and Lauren keeping their own vigil.

"Hey, girls," he whispered, his voice husky with overuse and dehydration.

"Bloody hell, Edward, you look and sound like absolute kak," Jess responded, as Lauren simply nodded in agreement. "Come on, let's go to the café and get a drink inside you before you collapse on us."

**~o0o~**

Even though only family were officially allowed to visit ICU patients, the Italians seemed much less rigid in applying the rules than in British and American hospitals. When they returned from the café, Edward had given permission for Jess and Lauren to sit with Bella while he grabbed a much-needed nap, knowing that theirs, more than just about anyone else's, would be the voices she would most want to hear.

"Edward, wake up… Edward!"

He stirred, his eyes reluctantly opening, to see the very welcome sight of his best friend standing before him.

"Emmett!"

He uncurled himself from the too-short couch and stood, whereupon Emmett enveloped him in a tight hug.

"Hey, Eddie," he murmured.

Finally pulling away, they sat while Edward explained again what had happened.

"So, now I know how Bella's doing… but how are you doing? Because I've gotta tell you, man, you look like shit."

As it turned out, Edward didn't have to answer that, because at that precise moment, he had good cause to be grateful for his friend's timely arrival, as Inspector Montalbano finally showed up to take Edward's statement and update him on what had been happening.

It seemed that Jane had disappeared without a trace, and as there was no record of her either entering or leaving the country, the police could only assume that she had either flown in under a false name and passport or she had driven across the border from France, Switzerland or Austria—or even Slovenia. Edward asked if they had checked to see whether an airline ticket had been issued to Mrs Jane Constantinou, her married name—which he made a point of saying he had told the police officer earlier. Montalbano looked a little uncomfortable and said he would have to look into it, which didn't imbue either Edward or Emmett with confidence. Edward sensed that the man was hiding something, and wondered if Jane had paid him off or had some hold over him. It would make sense, as it seemed unlikely that she could have found Bella and the crash site so easily without help. The man seemed to be genuinely concerned about Bella's well-being, but that could just be a guilty conscience—even if he was in the pocket of the Volturi bitch, he may not have been aware of, or prepared for, the level of violence perpetrated against Bella.

Edward sighed, asking the Inspector to please check and let him know. The chances were that Jane had almost certainly skipped the country by now and was probably on her way back to New York as they spoke, but it would be good to know whether or not they had to be on their guard.

Emmett had some pretty strong words to say on that subject, demanding that the Inspector arrange for officers to be posted both inside and outside the hospital. When Montalbano again cited staff shortages and insisted that it was unlikely Jane would return, Emmett told him flatly to sort out a guard or he would be speaking to the British and American Ambassadors in Milan, the Italian and British press and the damn Pope if he had to. But it was when he threatened to bring in the Carabinieri and ask them to look into why the Inspector had been so unhelpful, that the policeman started to become agitated. He assured Edward and Emmett that he would call in favours to get additional resources and that they had nothing to worry about, at which point Emmett told him he would stop worrying as soon as he saw a police presence parked outside the hospital and a man guarding the door of Bella's room.

Montalbano finally agreed and left, promising to make the necessary arrangements and to keep Edward updated, asking him to call if Bella's condition changed.

Thereafter, Edward introduced Emmett to Jessica and Lauren and they were happy to take him up to their hotel to get a room whilst Edward returned to his spot next to Bella's bed.

When Emmett reappeared, having checked in and left the girls to have a quick lunch with their families, he insisted that Edward grab an hour's sleep in the family room while he watched over Bella for a while, which Edward reluctantly agreed to. And that's where he was when Jessica came to find him a couple of hours later, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

"Wha—Jess? What's wrong?" A note of panic entered his voice and his eyes widened suddenly as he became aware of his surroundings.

"Everything's fine, Edward. Dr Malfi's with Bella now and he says you should probably be there, 'cos he's going to bring her out of the coma and take her off the respirator."

Edward shot up out of the chair, eyes ablaze. "What? He's going to wake her up now?"

He started to push past Jessica, but she put her hand on his arm to temper his headlong rush.

"Slow down, Edward. He says she probably won't wake up straight away, so you shouldn't get your hopes up too quickly."

Edward merely nodded and headed towards the lifts.

When they got to ICU, they found Emmett and Lauren standing outside Bella's room whilst Dr Malfi and a nurse tended to her. The nurse was pushing the contents of a hypodermic into Bella's IV, and when Edward caught the doctor's eye, Malfi beckoned him in.

"Ah, Signore Cullen, you are right on time. We've checked Isabella's liver and kidney functions, which I'm happy to report seem to be normal, so Lucia has just administered a drug to reverse the effects of the barbiturates used to induce her coma. We should hopefully see an increase in her blood pressure and heart rate, at which point we will remove the tube so that she can start to breathe on her own."

Edward's hands found his hair, gripping convulsively. "Jesus, what if she doesn't start breathing for herself?" His eyes were wide and panicky, as he looked from the doctor to Bella and back again.

Malfi put a calming hand on Edward's shoulder and smiled gently. "Don't worry, Signore, she will be able to breathe. She was only intubated because of the levels of sedation and analgesics administered, so that her body could concentrate on repairing itself. As soon as her BP comes up and we remove the tube, she will automatically take a breath, just like someone gasping for air after being under water." He patted Edward's shoulder and then turned back to Bella, watching the monitors as the drug hit her system.

Edward moved round to the side and once again picked up her hand, his gaze fixed on Bella's face, so that he didn't see the doctor smile when the contact coincided with a slight change in her heart rate. It was infinitesimal and may have been a coincidence, but the doctor was a great believer in the healing powers of love.

Dragging his eyes from Bella to the heart monitor, Edward watched the slow but noticeable increase in her BP, and he couldn't help but glance at the doctor and give him a small, hopeful smile. As he did, he became aware of Emmett, Jessica and Lauren watching from the other side of the observation panel, and immediately waved them in. Uncertainly, they opened the door and looked at the doctor, who just smiled at them and indicated that they should enter.

"Just for a few minutes. Once we know she's stable, we'll move her downstairs and you can all visit her."

Emmett moved to stand behind Edward, placing his big hands on his shoulders in a gesture of support, whilst the two girls instinctively and simultaneously reached out to take one another's hands. No one spoke as they watched Bella and the monitors, and then, after just a few minutes, the doctor smiled at them and then spoke in rapid Italian to the nurse. She ushered all but Edward out of the room, returning to stand next to the bed opposite where he stood gently clasping Bella's hand. The doctor nodded at her, and she carefully started removing the surgical tape which was keeping the breathing tube in place. When it was all gone, she checked the monitors one more time, then removed the mouthpiece, and took hold of the tube.

Edward winced as the nurse pulled on it, dragging it swiftly out of Bella's throat, causing her to momentarily gag and cough in her sleep. But, as the doctor had predicted, she inhaled immediately thereafter and quickly began to breathe normally.

Edward watched in fascination as Bella's eyeballs moved slightly under her eyelids, making him call out excitedly to the doctor, who smiled and told him that this was just a sign that she had come out of the coma, but that she was now under the influence of the sedatives and pain medication she had been given, so was unlikely to wake up for at least another four or five hours.

Edward nodded his acceptance, despite his disappointment, and then looked over to where the others were both standing just outside the door. Placing Bella's hand back on the bed, he went out to tell the girls to go back to the hotel and spend some time with their families and he would call if there was any change. They were reluctant, but knew that it was probably pointless hanging around when they couldn't even sit with Bella for any length of time. After extracting Edward's promise to let them know the moment there was anything new to report, they left the hospital. Emmett opted to stay, at least for a few hours, saying he would set himself up with his laptop in the Family Room and do some work. He wanted to be close by if Edward needed a friend.

Once Jess and Lauren had departed, Edward went with Emmett to get a drink and a sandwich, before returning to his lonely vigil beside his wife. The hours stretched out, and the hospital quietened as day turned to night once more. All the while, he talked to her, between short, restless naps, only leaving her to take bathroom breaks when the nurses came to check on her, and to push Emmett out to go get some sleep.

In the early hours of the third day, his large hand gripping her tiny, pale fingers, Edward laid his head on the bed and dozed.

**~o0o~**

_'Daddy, come on, Daddy, Mummy's getting away and we have to catch up.' Bella tugged and tugged on her father's hand, but when she glanced around he hardly seemed to be moving. Looking back the way they were headed, her mother had got impossibly further away, even though she, too, appeared to be walking quite slowly._

_Bella tugged harder, her frustration growing. 'Daddy, hurry UP.' But now when she looked, she could barely see her mother anymore. At her wits' end, she took a deep breath in order to shout to her mum to wait, but nothing came out. As a last resort, she tried to wrench her hand from her father's grip so that she could run after her, but he just held on tighter._

_Frustrated beyond belief, she suddenly remembered her phone, awkwardly retrieving it from her pocket with her left hand. It was a huge, old-fashioned instrument, with a massive keypad and a tiny little screen that only held two or three words of text. She tried to find the address book, but it didn't seem to have any modern features at all. A text message started scrolling across the screen now, two words at a time, but it went so quickly and the sun was shining so brightly that she couldn't make out what it said. Every time the words scrolled in a seemingly endless loop, the phone beeped, but no matter what buttons she pushed she couldn't get the message to slow down or the beeping to stop. And all the time, it was getting brighter and she was squinting, and her dad was holding too tight, and now her mother was nowhere to be seen._

'_Mummmeeee!' she tried to call, but all that came out was a painful croaking noise._

_Behind her, her dad was squeezing her hand and calling to her. 'Bella, it's okay, everything's okay.' He sounded weird, but when she tried to look around she couldn't see him anymore either, because the sun was in her eyes, dazzling her. It scared her that she couldn't see him, even though his grip on her hand was as strong as ever. However, they weren't moving at all now and she peered ahead to try and see her mother, but all she could see now was a tall man with his back to her, a shock of copper hair glinting in the sun. He stood absolutely still and Bella longed for him to turn around and look at her. She thought that if he could just see her, he would come and help her and she wouldn't need her mum and dad anymore. But she needed him to _see_ her and that would never happen if he didn't turn around. She tried to shout, to call to him, attract his attention somehow, but nothing came out of her mouth and she couldn't seem to move at all anymore. _

'_Please….' she whispered, her voice catching in a painful, throat-lacerating sob._

'_Bella? Bella, love, wake up…'_

_Arrgghh, why is that silly person telling me to wake up? Why would he think I'm asleep? _

"Bella, please, wake up."

_That voice… such a beautiful voice. I know it, I'm sure I do… _

"Bella, come on, baby, open those beautiful eyes."

_Oooh, I do so love that voice. And he thinks my eyes are beautiful… but how does he know they're beautiful if they're closed? Hey, what happened to the man with the Duracell hair? It's so bright now, I can't see anything. But that voice, it's like music… like the best song I ever heard. Maybe… could it belong to Mr Duracell? It's right by my ear now…_

"Bella, I know you can hear me, love. Please wake up. Your friends are all here… don't you want to see them?"

_He's so close now, that lovely velvety voice whispering in my ear… I swear I can feel his breath. Oh, Mr Duracell, you make me want to get naked and do awfully rude things… wonder if he looks as good as he sounds… dammit, my eyes must be closed…_

"Bella, it's Jess… Laurie's here too—you know, The Three Minge-keteers, Jizzy, Lobbie and Bellend… come on, B… peen for all and all for peen."

_Huh?_

"Come on, you minger, wake the fuck up!"

"Lauren!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Jess, but I'm busting for a widdle, and I just know the silly twonk will wake up when I'm sitting on the lav, just to annoy me."

Bella opened her eyes, blinking in the bright light.

"Bella? Oh, thank God."

"Mr Duracell?" came the croaky response.

* * *

**Translations**:

Lauren's reference to lav – short for lavatory. Well brought up, upper-class folk would never refer to it as a toilet (very common and lower middle class!) and certainly not bathroom, rest room or any other Americanism).


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

My thanks, as always, to MauiGirl60 for her beta skills, and also to Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

**Friday 29 July – Wednesday 10 August 2011**

Edward's joy at Bella's return to consciousness was unabated by the brevity of that first period of lucidity—or by her new nickname for him—and by the time she was able to stay awake for more than a couple of minutes, she had, much to his delight, been detached from the various machines, and moved to a private room on the third floor. Painted a cheery and warming pale yellow, and with windows overlooking the mountains to the northeast, the room was a good deal more comfortable and welcoming than the Intensive Care Unit. It also allowed for more visitors and, as a consequence, was rarely quiet, except late at night, when Edward maintained a solitary watch over his sleeping wife. He craved the opportunity to talk to her about what had happened, about his feelings for her and what the future held, but between her friends, the medical staff and the police, there was never really any time when he felt he could speak openly without being interrupted.

Once it became clear that, although still in pain and with a lot of healing to do, Bella was out of the woods and on the road to recovery, Jessica's and Lauren's mothers returned to England. They extracted promises that they would be kept updated, and Lydia issued an open invitation that Bella could come to Buckinghamshire to recuperate. Jules decided to return with them, realising that there was no hope of Bella ever feeling more for him than friendship and feeling like a bit of a third wheel, particularly in the face of Edward's revelation about their marriage. He couldn't leave, however, without one final word of warning to Edward.

"You better bloody look after her, Cullen, because if I ever find out you made Bella cry again, I'll be coming to find you, I swear to God!"

Edward acknowledged Jules' words, knowing he would likely carry out his threat, and couldn't help but be glad he was leaving.

Emmett stayed for a couple more days, not wanting to leave until he was certain that Bella was going to be okay, and that the police investigation was being handled properly. It was now clear that Jane had used her married name to travel into Italy, and had likely departed from Florence the same day as the attack. However, although she had checked in for her flight back to New York, records showed that she never boarded the plane, leaving everyone feeling extremely worried, including the police, who maintained the police guard at the hospital, much to Edward's and Emmett's relief.

In the meantime, Bella grew stronger every day, and, by the time Emmett returned to New York, she was up and walking around, albeit with Edward's constant support.

Lauren was under the impression that she had been given a colostomy bag, and seemed desperately disappointed that this was not the case.

"Eww, Lobz, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want one of those." Bella wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Hmm, maybe, maybe not. I mean, I know it's not frightfully sexy, but there's a lot to be said for not having to worry about finding a loo when you're busting to go… like, on a long car journey or somewhere where there's always a huge queue for the ladies'… just imagine having one at Glastonbury or V or whatever… you wouldn't even have to leave the stage area to pee, let alone find one of those ghastly chemical loos where someone always seems to have done a really whiffy poo. You could just carry on rocking, whilst quietly luxuriating in peeing where you stand, without anyone knowing… well, unless somebody was standing right next to you and could feel a warm swelling… but other than that, I say don't knock the colostomy." She nodded sagely, utterly serious.

Jessica and Bella stared at her, open-mouthed, but then made the mistake of looking at one another, which was enough to set them off, much to Bella's discomfort.

"Oh my God, Lobz, don't make me laugh, you dipstick, it huurrrtttts!"

Edward, of course, chose that moment to walk in, finding Jessica bent double in paroxysms of laughter, tears streaming down her face, and Bella grimacing with pain whilst trying, unsuccessfully, not to laugh. He then cast his gaze on Lauren, who was looking at Bella with an expression which could best be described as bemused resignation.

"Okay, you two, I think Bella's had enough of your stimulating wit for a few hours. Why don't you go get some lunch and give her a break?"

**~o0o~**

Emmett went home. The police—keen to ensure that no further harm came to a wealthy British tourist married to an equally wealthy American—remained vigilant, with no further sightings of the elusive Jane. Oddly, Montalbana seemed to have taken a leave of absence, and another, apparently more senior, officer had taken over the investigation.

Meanwhile, Bella continued to improve day-by-day, to such an extent that Dr Malfi remarked with wonder on her excellent recuperative powers.

Jessica and Lauren half-heartedly tried to persuade her to come to Buckinghamshire to convalesce, but both knew that it was pointless to try and separate her from Edward, who wanted to take her home to London before whisking her away from everything and everyone—and they all knew that included Jane, should she decide to make a reappearance.

The new senior officer had brought in Interpol who were in contact with the FBI, and Bella had also now given a statement. The FBI had questioned Jane's family, who not only denied any knowledge of her whereabouts, but had also brought in expensive, high-powered lawyers and investigators to deny that Jane had even been the perpetrator of the attack on Bella, who they labelled as a hysterical, runaway teenager. They had pedalled their version of events to the American press, saying that Bella had been expelled from her English school for drug offenses and sexual immorality and had run away from her guardian to go on a drink and drug-fuelled rampage in Las Vegas. They also stated that she inveigled an unwilling Edward into marriage with threats of worse behaviour, all culminating in her becoming insanely jealous of his friendship with Jane and trying to frame her for attempted murder. The fact that Bella had sustained a life-threatening injury and that Edward had seen Jane leave the scene, as well as the concierge's sworn statement that Jane had been in Volterra and had driven off with Bella on the day of the shooting, was all conveniently overlooked. There was just enough of a kernel of truth in what was reported to make a good story, which would convince the American public that Bella was a nasty foreign trouble-maker of questionable morals, trying to corrupt one of their own and slander another.

Edward was furious when he heard about all this from Emmett, demanding to know how they found out about Vegas and Bella's suspension from school. Rose surmised that it wouldn't be that difficult for good investigators to find out about Bella's school suspension, and their marriage was a matter of public record, should anyone care to dig deep enough. Edward doubted that James would have talked, but until he got back to New York, there was little he could do about it.

He and the girls managed to keep the worst of this latest development from Bella, not wanting to compromise her recovery by giving her anymore cause for concern. Two weeks after the shooting, Dr Malfi gave Bella the all-clear to travel, the four of them all returning to England together.

At Gatwick, Jules was waiting to pick up the girls, as Lauren was going to stay with Jess for a few days before returning home. As they all stood in Arrivals, Edward took a step back to let Bella say her tearful farewells.

"Hey, I'll call you tonight, okay? And when we get back from wherever it is that Edward wants to take me, we'll meet up… you know, before uni…" She sniffed, wiping away her tears.

"Of course we'll meet up—God, you're making it sound like we'll never see each other again once we go to uni," Jess insisted, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Lauren's eyes widened. "Noooo! You two are my… my… posse! We're, like, the Famous Five, the Secret Seven, the Fantastic Four… we're the… the…"

"The Three Minge-keteers?" Bella interjected laconically.

"Well, yes, but I was going to say something like… oh, I don't know… the Thrusting Threesome, or something," Lauren grumbled.

"The Thrusting Threesome? Seriously?" Jess asked, frowning.

"Alliteration, peeps, it's all about the alliteration… and bugger-all goes with _'Three'_," she observed irritably.

Jess was clearly thinking hard about it. "We could be the Threatening Three," she mused.

"Oh, yeah, right, 'cos we're so _unbelievably_ threatening… Duh!" Lauren drawled.

"The Thonged Three… the Throaty Three… the… the… Thankful Three…" Jess cringed at her own lameness.

Lauren was getting increasingly exasperated, and Bella loved her for it… for taking away the sadness of their parting as they all finally gave in to the ridiculousness and started giggling.

There were hugs all round, including for Edward, as Bella's two friends gave him a group hug, which touched him deeply. The feeling didn't last, however, when he saw that Jules was taking the opportunity to give Bella a hug, which, to Edward's mind, was a little too long and a lot too tight.

And then her friends were gone, heading out to the short-stay car park, whilst an airport employee stood by with a wheelchair, much to Bella's annoyance. She had grumbled most of the way home about what she considered Edward's excessive over-protectiveness—he had hired not one, but two nurses to take care of her, an Italian nurse who accompanied them to Florence airport, then a second nurse who he'd arranged to have flown in from England to take care of Bella on the flight to London and then settle her in at home. He had also hired a very intimidating-looking bodyguard, who travelled with them from the hospital as far as passport control at Florence.

At Edward's urging, Bella reluctantly sat back down in the loathsome wheelchair, feeling like a complete fraud, and was duly propelled out to the special parking bay for handicapped and disabled travellers, where an all-too-familiar bronze Bentley awaited them. As they drew close, Tyler climbed out of the car and strode towards them.

"Miss Swan, I can't tell you how good it is to see you back and looking so well after your ordeal," he told her, as he moved behind her to take over wheelchair pushing duties.

Bella grinned up at him, surprised at just how happy she was to see him. "Oh, Tyler, it's good to be back. And I will not have you calling me Miss Swan, it makes me feel like someone's spinster aunt. For goodness' sake, call me—"

"Mrs Cullen," Edward interjected, not letting her finish. He knew she was going to ask Tyler to call her by her first name—a notion he didn't care for in the least, remembering all the little smirks and winks they had exchanged in the past.

Tyler looked round at Edward with his mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise. "Mrs Cul—oh, good grief, so it's true… uh, congratulations, sir, miss… I mean, madam." He looked back at Bella, who was regarding Edward with an arched brow.

"What? There's no point in hiding it anymore," he said with studied nonchalance.

"Hmm, no, I suppose not. But, Tyler, I still want you to call me Bella."

"Uh…" Tyler looked at Edward, who frowned and then just shrugged in resignation.

Then everyone was helping Bella into the back of the car, Edward climbing in beside her and the nurse sitting up front with Tyler. As soon as the engine started, Edward pressed the button to raise the privacy screen, and for the first time in a long time they were, to all intents and purposes, alone.

As the car wound slowly but smoothly through the airport, Edward turned his head to look at Bella, frowning when she winced a little as she fidgeted to find a more comfortable position.

"Are you okay… do you need a cushion or something?" Edward's voice was thick with concern, and he wondered if he should direct Tyler to drive straight to the nearest hospital.

Bella reached out and laid her hand gently on his arm. "I'm fine, Edward, I'm just a little stiff from the flight. Don't fuss, you'll drive yourself crazy… as well as me."

He sighed. "It's pointless telling me not to fuss, Bella, I can't help it. But if you promise to tell me if you're in pain or something doesn't feel right, then I might be able to relax a little and not rip all my hair out. Deal?"

She smiled at him, knowing it was the best she could hope for. "I promise, Edward—please don't pull out your hair, I'd really… um… miss it."

She immediately turned her attention to the view outside her window, not wanting him to see the desperate need she felt. Since she had come out of her coma, Edward had kept conversation relatively light, or at least confined to medical matters and generalities related to the on-going investigation. She had been frustrated, as the dreams she had had during the period when she had been unconscious had centred around Edward and things he had said. She knew it was probably her longing for him to declare that he had feelings for her which led her to dream about him doing precisely that, but it seemed he had steadfastly avoided saying anything of importance since she woke up.

Of course, Jess and Laurie had both told her that Edward refused to leave her side, that he had undoubtedly saved her life, and that his concern for her was deep and touching. However, Bella felt that his actions since the shooting could easily be ascribed to his natural feelings of anxiety over his friends' daughter, as he had always been at great pains to make her understand in the past. He had mentioned taking her away for a couple of weeks, but hadn't said where and in what context—just that he wanted her to have a chance to rest and recuperate in a calm and relaxing place, saying nothing about whether they would be traveling as man and wife or just friends.

They hardly spoke on the journey into London, although Bella was very aware of Edward's gaze burning a hole in the side of her face and her neck as she steadfastly kept her eyes glued to the view rushing past her window.

Fortunately, traffic into town was relatively light and they made good time, pulling into Jay Mews just before three o'clock in the afternoon. Bella peered out of her window, feeling suddenly tearful when she realised there had been a time when she thought she might never again see this house.

"Hey, are you okay?" Edward's soft voice beside her snapped her out of her dismal thoughts and she turned to him and nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

A moment later her door opened and she carefully swivelled round so that she could shuffle herself out of the car. As Tyler went to offer his hand, though, Edward appeared from the other side of the car to scoop her out and into his arms, bridal fashion.

"Edward, what are you doing? I _can_ walk, you know," she gasped, nevertheless slipping her arms around his neck.

"I know you can walk, B, but I don't want you struggling with the stairs for a couple of days, so just let me carry you… please?"

Shaking her head in resignation, Bella indicated her acquiescence by resting her head on his shoulder as they headed for the door, which Tyler was now holding open for them.

Upstairs, Edward deposited Bella gently on one of the couches and went to help Tyler with the luggage, whilst Lucy, the nurse, checked Bella's dressing under her loose t-shirt, and then went to speak to Edward.

It seemed that the arrangement was for Lucy to stay for the rest of the week, which Bella was adamant she didn't need or want.

"Nothing personal, Lucy, but I'm fine, really. If you show me how to change the dressing, I can do it myself, or Edward can help me… Edward? You can help me with that, can't you?"

Edward sighed and looked at Lucy. "Tell me if she needs you, and I'll overrule her. Whichever it is, I'll pay you to the end of the week."

Lucy smiled at Bella and then looked up at Edward. "Honestly, Mr Cullen? Your wife really doesn't need a nurse anymore, just plenty of rest and someone to help her keep her dressings clean and regularly changed, plus help with bathing. You need to make an appointment with Mrs Cullen's GP for early next week but other than that, I'm sure the two of you can manage. I'll leave you plenty of dressings and you should be careful not to get them wet—a sandwich bag secured over the entire area with surgical tape will work in the shower, but no baths. And no lifting, or over-exerting yourself… which means no sex either—at least, not until your doctor gives you the all-clear. Okay?"

Bella blushed to her roots and looked away, not wanting to see Edward's face.

"Um, right, yes, fine… thanks, Lucy, I think that's all… uh, clear. I'll call Tyler and ask him to drive you wherever you need to go. Just send me your account for services rendered until the end of the week and I'll mail you a cheque."

"That's great, thanks, Mr Cullen." She pulled a pack of surgical dressings and tape out of her bag, which she handed to Edward, and then turned to Bella and held out her hand. "Take care, Mrs Cullen and do what your husband and the doctor tell you. Good luck." She shook Bella's hand and turned to follow Edward out.

A few minutes later, when Edward returned from seeing her out, he found Bella just starting to doze off on the sofa. Coming round to stand in front of her, he crouched down and put his hands on her knees.

"Bella? Hey, don't fall asleep down here. Come on, let me take you up to bed."

Bella's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him for a moment. "Uh uh, Cullen, you heard the nurse—no sex." She lifted her hand and waggled a finger at him, but then dropped her arm heavily, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.

Edward sucked in a sharp hiss of air, his thoughts running riot.

_Jesus, the woman's been shot, do not start thinking about having sex with her!_

He closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to stop thinking about Bella, naked in his bed, but when he opened them again, it was clear that she had fallen asleep, which was hardly surprising, considering the amount of pain medication she was on, and the long day of travelling.

He slipped a hand under her knees and one around her shoulders and stood, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. She had weighed little more than 110lbs before the shooting, and barely tipped the scales now at 100lbs, which was way too thin. He would have to make sure she started eating better. He looked down at her as she wriggled slightly, snuggling her face into his chest and tightening her arms around his neck, making him smile.

At the top of the stairs he paused, wondering which room to take her to, but then decided that, regardless of what happened in the future, right now she was his wife, she was hurt, and he didn't want her out of his sight. He walked to the end of the landing and pushed open his own bedroom door. He had called ahead yesterday to his cleaner, who had been in to spruce the place up and put fresh linen on both his and Bella's beds, so he just lay her down and carefully started taking her clothes off. He left her in her t-shirt and knickers, not wanting to risk waking her.

Pulling the light summer duvet over her, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, eliciting an incoherent mumble from Bella, who then turned onto her uninjured side and buried her face in the pillow. Smiling, he opened the windows to let a gentle breeze into the stuffy room, before letting himself out quietly, leaving the door ajar in case she woke up and called out to him. He then headed downstairs and retrieved his laptop so he could check his emails and make some calls.

**~o0o~**

It was dark when Bella woke up, and at first she was utterly disorientated, wondering where she was and what had woken her. Rolling onto her back, she winced and made a small grunting noise as she realised she had been sleeping on her sore side, which was probably what had caused her to wake up. She was also really warm, and felt all tangled up in the baggy t-shirt she was still wearing.

"Bella, are you okay?"

She gasped at the sound of Edward's soft, mellifluous voice, right beside her.

"Hey, it's only me. I'm sorry, would you prefer to sleep alone?"

She felt his warm breath ghost across her ear and shivered, despite the heat.

"No, don't go, please. I just… wasn't expecting you to, uh… I didn't think you would want to…" She didn't know how to say it, how to tell him that she couldn't believe he wanted to share a bed with her.

"Shhh, B. Of course I want to be here. Where else would I go?"

She felt him move away from her, and then she heard the click as soft, golden light poured across the bed from the lamp on Edward's side. He immediately turned back to her, cupping her face and gazing down at her, his forest green eyes full of concern and… love?

"Are you in pain, Bella? Do you need me to get you something to take?"

She stared up at him, momentarily lost in his beautiful eyes, which where swimming with emotion.

"Bella?"

She reached up, lightly brushing his cheekbone with her fingers, full of wonder at what she saw in his face.

"Edward, I'm fine, just a bit sore from lying on my side."

"Oh, okay, if you're sure. You will tell me, won't you… if you're in pain?"

"Yes, I promise I'll tell you."

"And you're sure you don't mind me being here with you, like this?"

"I would mind more if you weren't," she replied, smiling up at him, her fingers brushing rhythmically up and down his jawline.

And that was it. He couldn't do it anymore… he simply couldn't resist her. She was _right there_, looking up at him, her amazing, rich chocolate eyes telling him everything he needed to know.

Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across hers, preparing to withdraw immediately. Bella, of course, had other ideas, and as she felt his mouth on hers, the hand which had been caressing his jaw slid round to cup the back of his neck, pulling him back to her.

Edward groaned deep in the back of his throat as the lips he'd been fantasising about for months moulded themselves to his, and when he felt her tongue slide across his lower lip he had no choice but to open to her, his own tongue gliding and tangling with hers.

The kiss quickly intensified, becoming more heated as their bodies reacted to one another the way they had always done… the way they seemed genetically designed to do.

And then his hand was moving up under her shirt, stroking her smooth, silken skin, making its way up…

A sharp hiss from Bella against his mouth and the feel of her surgical dressing under his fingers had Edward pulling quickly away from her, even though she kept both hands locked around the back of his neck.

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm a fucking animal."

"Edward, I'm fine—"

"You're not fine, you're in pain, and I'm pawing at you like a damned pervert who can't control himself."

He gently pulled her hands away from him and rolled onto his back beside her.

"Dammit, Bella, I'm so sorry."

Bella rolled—carefully—towards him, propped herself on one elbow and put her hand on his bare chest.

"Edward, please stop with the self-flagellation. You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do. I'm the one who should apologise, for pushing you and for wanting more than my body's ready for. Please, _please_ don't beat yourself up for reacting like a normal, red-blooded male."

She smiled at him as he turned his head to look at her.

He snorted derisively. "I hardly think it's normal to molest one's wife when she's still recovering from being shot by a psychotic stockholder."

"Hmm, way to kill the mood, Edward." She slapped his chest lightly, causing him to give her a rueful smirk.

"Sorry, B, I guess that was uncalled for, but it's probably a good idea to… uh… cool our ardour."

Bella sighed, gently rubbing the spot where she had slapped him. "I suppose you're right… but…

"But what?"

Bella moved away, lying back down on her side of the bed. Edward followed her, propping himself on his elbow to mirror their previous positions.

"But what, Bella?"

"I don't know, Edward. I… do you… _arrgghh!_ Does this mean you want to… you want us to be… together… like, you know… _together?_"

She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look at him, but then she felt his hand cup her cheek and turn her head towards him.

"Bella, open your eyes… please."

After a moment, she did as he asked and looked at him.

"I know we have a lot to talk about, and we're both too tired to do much of that right now, but I need you to know, Bella… I came to Italy to find you… to beg for your forgiveness… to fight for you…"

"You did?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yeah, I did. I've been such an idiot, Bella. But I'm tired of pretending that what's happened between us means nothing. I know we didn't get off to the best start, but I can't not be with you. Being away from you was the worst kind of torture. So I decided that, if you can forgive me, even if it only lasts until some handsome, young under-grad—someone like Jules—comes along and sweeps you off your feet, then I'll take it, and I'll deal with the fall-out when it happens. I need you, Bella. I…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "The simple truth is… that I love you… so fucking much."

Bella's eyes widened, her mouth popping open as she pulled in a gasp of air.

"You don't have to say it back or anything, I just—"

He didn't get to finish was he was saying, as Bella's arms once again came up around his neck and pushed him onto his back, crashing her mouth to his as she kissed him with everything she had.

At last, when she needed to breathe, she pulled away, just far enough so that she could look into his eyes.

"You stupid, stupid man. I've been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And I realised while I was lying in that hospital bed, that none of that other stuff really mattered, not in the grand scheme of things. And no one… absolutely no man in the world will ever, _ever_ compare to you."

"Bella," he breathed, kissing her again… long, and slow, and deep.

Before he could hurt her again, though, he pulled back. But he couldn't suppress his grin.

"Okay, we have to stop now, because I need you to mend really, _really_ quick so I can do to you all the things I want to, which means I have to let you rest now. We'll have plenty of time to talk in the morning."

He kissed her again, softly, and then again, a little harder. Bella's mouth opened to him once more, making them both groan as the kiss deepened, but clearly, Edward had more willpower than his wife, pulling away with a sigh of frustration.

"Jesus, Bella, you would tempt a goddamned saint. Give me a break, woman. You need to heal and that won't happen if we let this go any further—I'm not made of stone, you know."

Bella dragged her thigh up between his legs, feeling his reaction to her through his boxer-briefs, which was all he was wearing.

"Hmm, you sure about that? Something feels pretty solid to me."

Edward hissed as she moved her leg gently, but firmly against him. "Fucking hell, B, you have to stop… _fuuucckk_."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, smiling wryly at her irritated pout.

"Edward, don't be mean. There must be _something_ we can do. It's been so long."

"Absolutely not. And if you don't pipe down, I'm going to sleep in the spare room." He waggled his finger at her and then gasped aloud as she captured it between her lips, sucking on it salaciously, as she locked eyes with him.

"God give me strength!" he groaned. He pulled his finger—slowly—out of her mouth, and then, with his hands on her shoulders, gently pushed her back against the mattress.

"Enough, Bella. I mean it. I want to as much as you do, but not until after you've seen the doctor and got the stitches out. Okay?"

She pouted again, but nodded, before being overtaken by an enormous yawn.

"There, you see? You're exhausted. Get some sleep, and tomorrow we can talk about everything."

"Okay. But will you hold me… just until I fall asleep?" she asked, her voice small.

He smiled down at her. "Always."

He rolled away for a moment to turn the light out, then pulled her gently into his arms, lying back so that his arm was around her shoulders and her head was on his chest. She slid her own arm around his waist and snuggled closer, despite the warmth of the night.

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten with the first harbingers of the coming day, but inside Edward's bedroom, the quiet darkness allowed them both to sink quickly into a deep and untroubled sleep.

* * *

**End Note:**

Glastonbury and V are the two largest music festivals in the UK.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Massive thanks to MauiGirl, Cared and Midnight Cougar, as always.

**WARNING: **There are scenes of violence towards the end of the chapter, so if you think this may upset you, I'd advise that you skip to the next chapter after Edward and Bella fall asleep. In which case, you can PM me and I'll give you a synopsis.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX  
**

**Friday 12 – Tuesday 16 August**

True to his word, over the next two days Edward and Bella talked… really talked, for the first time. About their feelings, about their mistakes and about what they both wanted. There were many tears, but there were also kisses and tender, lingering touches, which calmed and grounded them both.

As they talked, they realised that, despite the somewhat farcical start to their romance, and the obstacles put in their way—not the least of which was their age difference—the one constant was that they truly loved each other. Edward conceded that his initial concerns about Bella's age and perceived lack of maturity and experience were misplaced, and that these things should not in any way invalidate her feelings for him.

"I know I'm young, Edward, and yes, I'm inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but you can't just write off what I feel as the adolescent crushing of a teenage girl. Aren't my feelings just as valid as yours? You, yourself, admit that you've never been in love before, so why should your feelings be imbued with more substance than mine?"

He wanted to say that, at seventeen, she would probably grow out of it, but he knew that would be patronising in the extreme and, in all honesty, he really didn't want to believe that it might turn out to be true.

But he did feel that he needed to reiterate that, after years of single-sex schooling, it was likely that the less structured, co-ed environs of university would lead to her discovering that there was more to life—and love—than Edward Cullen.

"But don't you see, Edward? There are no guarantees in life, no absolutes. Your parents presumably loved one another when they got married, but it didn't stop them divorcing after little more than five years. My parents adored one another, but were killed in their forties in a stupid accident. Knowing that there's a chance it won't work shouldn't be the reason not to try—on the contrary, it should make us try harder. Otherwise, no one would ever let themselves fall in love, marry, have kids or do anything with their lives. I want to take the chance, Edward. I want to take the chance that I might get my heart broken, but equally… no, not equally… more likely, I won't. I want to take the chance that we'll live a long and happy life together… don't you?"

And he discovered that, yes, he did want to take that chance. That after what he'd experienced with Bella, there was no way he could return to the cold, empty relationships he'd had in the past. That, yes, a short time with Bella, if that was all he was granted, was better than no time with her.

He ran his fingers lightly along her jaw and across her cheek, smiling ruefully. "When did you get so wise and I became so stupid?"

Bella laughed lightly. "Oh, Edward, I think me nearly dying lent us both some wisdom. Because, let's face it, until you married me, you'd always been stupid about women!"

"Ouch, that's harsh. Remind me again why I love you." He scowled playfully at her.

"Because I've got fantastic tits, a phenomenal arse and a mouth like a Dyson!"

Said mouth was suddenly covered by Edward's as he attempted to kiss the face off her.

**~o0o~**

On the fourth day, instead of talking about the past, they started talking about the future, both in the short-term and the long-term.

They talked about Bella's plans for university, and started looking seriously at properties for her to rent or buy, especially as time was getting short. They talked about a holiday, once Bella was fit enough, which Edward couldn't help referring to as their belated honeymoon, much to Bella's delight. They went online and looked at ideas and destinations, finally settling on hiring a yacht to sail round the Mediterranean.

They talked about America and the company and, yes, they even talked about Jane and the investigation.

"I'm not going back to New York until Jane's been arrested, Edward, I just… I know I'm being a scaredy cat, but I just can't."

"Hey, you are _not_ being a scaredy cat. Jesus, Bella, the crazy bitch tried to kill you; no way will I let you go anywhere near where she might be."

He pulled her into his arms, ever careful of her wound, and kissed the top of her head. Over these last few days, he'd worked hard to control his urges and limit their physical interactions to little more than affectionate but relatively chaste kisses. But it was hard… as was he… all the time.

Bella sighed in his arms, holding him tight and wishing the time between now and her doctor's appointment would pass a bit quicker. She was optimistic about getting a clean bill of health, as every day she was improving. She could hardly feel it now, except a little twinge from the stiches when she stretched. Edward had assiduously changed her dressings each day and they could both see that the wound was healing cleanly and remarkably quickly. He had told her he would take her to see his step-mother's plastic surgeon when they eventually returned to New York, as he would be able to eradicate the scar completely, he was sure.

"I suppose it does make me look ugly," Bella mused, looking at her abdomen in the mirror as Edward peeled away the old bandage, preparing to replace it with a clean one. "I won't be able to wear a bikini ever again," she said sadly.

He straightened up, and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, capturing her gaze in the mirror.

"You are beautiful, Bella. Do you hear me? Quite the most stunning woman I have ever laid eyes on, and nothing—absolutely nothing—will ever detract from that. I'm not suggesting cosmetic surgery because I think it's made you less attractive, I just don't want you to have a constant reminder of what happened to you. I want you to be able to move on and forget about that bitch and what she did. And I really fucking want to see you in a bikini again." Her hair was pulled into a messy bun with the ever-present chopsticks, and he bent to kiss her exposed neck, making her shiver, even in the heat of the August afternoon.

"Okay," she whispered.

**~o0o~**

Edward was equally—if not more—keen for Bella's doctor to give her the all-clear. The nights, of course, were the worst. Neither of them wanted to wear much due to the heat, and lying next to Bella in her tiny little camisole and knickers, when he was only wearing his boxer-briefs, was pretty torturous; he discovered very quickly that a half-naked Bella worked better than Viagra when it came to giving him a permanent erection. And whenever they awoke, no matter how hot it was, and how careful Edward tried to be, they always seemed to have migrated towards one another in the night, and Edward's hard-on was always pressed firmly against some part of Bella's anatomy, much to his chagrin and her delight… and their equal frustration.

Bella's Wednesday morning appointment with her private consultant couldn't come quick enough, and on Tuesday night they were both excited that by the same time the following night they might be able to do more than cuddle. Bella had tried, in vain, to persuade Edward that she was good to go, but he was determined to wait, terrified of hurting her, despite her protestations to the contrary.

The night was excessively warm, and they had all the windows open. Earlier, they had eaten dinner out on the deck, sitting outside until well after dark, drinking wine, talking and laughing and kissing, until it was time to come indoors and head upstairs to bed. They started carrying stuff inside, but gave up because they were both a little tipsy, and were having trouble keeping their hands off one another. In the end, they simply pulled the door closed and stumbled a little up to bed.

Neither of them had been drunk in a while, and Edward was wary of letting his guard down with an increasingly… frisky Bella.

Up in the bedroom, he had waggled his finger at her. "Okay, Mrs Cullen, let's get one thing straight—if there's any funny business, I'm going to be out that door and straight into the spare room. Do I make myself clear?"

Bella gave him a Girl Guide salute. "Absolutely, sir! I promise that I will do my best to love my God, to serve my Queen and my country, to help other people and to keep the Guide Law... and to not fiddle with my husband's todger… much. There, will that do you?"

Edward laughed. "Shit, Bella, come on now, don't do this to me. It's just one more night, okay?"

"Well, what's the difference between tonight and tomorrow night?"

"Getting your stitches taken out, and being given the green light—or not. That's the difference. Now promise me, Bella… properly."

"Okay, okay… God, it's like living with a Cistercian monk!" she grumped, going into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Once they were in bed, lying side-by-side with just a sheet covering their lower bodies, Bella turned her head towards Edward in the dark.

"How about a hand job, then? You surely can't object to that."

"Bellaaaa—_holy fuck!_"

Before he could stop her, Bella had pushed her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her hand firmly around his hot, rigid cock. She moved her fingers up and over the head, gathering up the evidence of his arousal and then sliding back down to the base. Then she started to pump him… slow at first and then harder and faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, Jesus, Bella…" Edward bucked his hips into her hand, thinking he should stop her but utterly incapable of doing so. It had been so long… too long… longer, in fact, than he had ever gone without a woman's hands on him since he'd lost his virginity, and _her hands_… Oh, God, having her perfect hands on him was beyond amazing.

He knew he wouldn't last, not after such a hiatus.

"Shit, Bella, I'm gonna cum… _oh, fuuccck_…."

She felt his cock swell in her hand and become momentarily harder, pulsing and throbbing, until great spurts of thick, hot spunk exploded out of him, splashing over his stomach, her hand and up her arm.

"_Ahhhhh… _oh, Jesus…" Edward gasped for breath and then lifted his head to look down his body to where Bella was still gently stroking his softening dick.

"Fucking hell, B, that was embarrassingly quick." He dropped his head back on the pillow and expelled a huge sigh.

Giggling, Bella climbed out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a dampened wash cloth, with which she proceeded to clean herself and Edward. When she'd finished, she dropped the cloth on the floor and snuggled back in beside him, kissing his chest and smiling triumphantly to herself.

"Don't think I'm unaware that you've got a massively smug smile on your face right now," Edward said into the darkness. "But in my defence, it's been a very long time and you, my love, have magic hands."

Bella sniggered, drawing formless patterns on his stomach with her index finger. "Don't worry about it, Edward… although maybe we should get some more practice in before tomorrow night, just so you can work on your… stamina. I know older men can struggle with that sort of thing, and I'm happy to do my bit for Help the Aged." She couldn't suppress the giggle which erupted from her as she felt him tense beside her.

The giggle turned to a gasp, though, as she was suddenly rolled onto her back, Edward hovering above her on his hands and knees.

"Oh, sweet girl, I'll show you stamina," he practically growled, as he pushed her silky camisole up to reveal her chest.

And then his mouth was on her left breast, his tongue flicking and circling her nipple, before transferring to the right one and repeating the action. She moaned long and low as Edward worked his way down her body, kissing and sucking and nibbling on her skin, until he came to rest between her legs.

Pushing her knees apart, he hooked his thumbs into her tiny G-string and peeled them off her, before dipping his head and kissing her lightly, just above her pubic bone. Then, without further ado, he shuffled down a little and settled between her thighs, an intense and determined look on his face.

"If you wriggle or do anything which will pull on your stitches I will stop immediately, so the only way you're going to get yours is if you lie absolutely still. I'll teach you to take the piss, you little minx." He glanced up at her, eyebrow arched, his skin bleached by the silvery illumination cast by the full moon through the window.

In that ethereal light, Bella couldn't help thinking that he looked, for all the world, like an incredibly hot, sexy vampire poised to bite into her femoral artery and drink his fill whilst pleasuring her into a blood-pumping frenzy. She moaned loudly at the erotic imagery her thoughts were conjuring up, the sound merely serving to drive Edward insane with desire. Moments later, he had his mouth on her, the sweet taste of her arousal coating his lips and tongue as he feasted on her dripping and swollen sex. He held on tightly to her hips, pushing them back down onto the mattress when they threatened to buck up into his face. Her cries and moans escalated to a point where she was no longer able to articulate a single sound, other than a rhythmic intake of air until, with one explosive exhalation, she let out a high-pitched scream. Her orgasm hit her like a tornado, making her feel like she'd been sucked a mile into the air before being flung down a giant helter-skelter, going one hundred miles an hour.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" she gasped, incapable of anything more profound.

Edward raised his head to look up at her, his nose, lips and chin glistening with the juices he'd wrung from his wife.

"So—what do you think of your old man now, eh?" He grinned at her as she propped herself on her elbows and looked back at him.

"I think," she said, pausing to draw in another much needed lungful of air, "that when you pop your clogs, I'm gonna have your tongue preserved in formaldehyde for posterity."

She dropped back down on the bed with an audible sigh, as Edward barked out a laugh, before crawling back up Bella's body until their faces were on a level. He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth so that she could taste herself fully. Pulling back slightly, he looked intently into her eyes.

"The doctor better say we can have sex tomorrow, because I wanna be inside you so bad I think I might have a stroke if I can't get in there."

"Oh, Edward, don't worry, I'll give you a stroke," she said, slipping one hand to the back of his neck to pull him down for another kiss, whilst reaching down with her other hand to rub his thick, solid erection through his boxers.

Gasping into her mouth, he pulled back to look at her.

"Christ, Bella, you're going to send me to an early grave, I swear."

Reluctantly, he grabbed her hand and dragged it off him, then rolled to her side and onto his back.

"We should get some sleep, B—I do _not_ want to be late for that appointment," he told her firmly, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve her underwear, which he handed to her.

Bella giggled, pulled them up over her long legs and rolled onto her side to snuggle up next to him, neither of them bothering to pull the sheet back up from where it had slipped onto the floor.

A soft noise from downstairs briefly captured Edward's attention as he hovered on the cusp of sleep but when he heard nothing else, he quickly submitted to his exhaustion, helped on his way by Bella's already even breathing beside him.

**~o0o~**

In the living room, the door to the deck, which hadn't been shut properly, finally clicked open under pressure from a gentle gust of warm air nudging against it. Midges and moths quickly migrated to the opening, drawn to the cooker hood light, which neither Bella nor Edward had remembered to extinguish.

And, as the summer night turned into that witching hour before the cloak of darkness is cast off by the pre-dawn awakening, a shadowy figure flitted across the rooftops, aided by London's cheek-by-jowl housing, finally dropping on silent feet to the garden deck of No. 5 Jay Mews. It seemed that the gods were on the side of the black-clad roof-surfer, who smiled at the sight of the open door and guiding light, slipping silently inside.

**~o0o~**

Bella was having a really horrible dream. It had started so well, with her and Edward making out on a sort of giant _chaise longue_ in a massive, Baroque palace. His hands had been all over her and she was panting and gasping for more, but when she looked down she could see that the hands weren't Edwards… they were just random disembodied hands and now they were pinching and squeezing her painfully. She looked over at Edward, but he had his back to her, and when she called his name and tried to reach out for him, he shrugged her off.

Bella knew this was a dream and fought to wake herself up, at the same time trying desperately to kick out at and push away the dozens of hostile hands.

"No… no…gedoff…" she mumbled, one foot jabbing sideways and making contact with Edward's leg, where he lay on his back beside her.

"Wha—" Edward was jolted awake by Bella's furious struggle, his eyes flickering open. "Bella?"

He was momentarily confused by the fact that, although he could feel her moving next to him, she also seemed to be standing at the side of the bed.

His confusion turned to horror as she raised her arm and he could see the glint of steel in the partial glow cast by the night sky's half-moon, and clarity crashed down on him.

As the apparition leaned forward and brought down its arm with a blood-curdling screech, Edward roared a warning and hurled himself on top of his wife, rolling them both across and off the opposite side of the bed.

He felt pain bloom like fire in his right biceps, and then they were on the ground, Bella's scream reverberating in his ear.

Above them, the figure stumbled slightly as the knife caught in the mattress, eliciting a high-pitched expletive. With adrenaline pumping through his system, Edward rolled himself and Bella back and under the bed, thanking every deity he could think of that he had chosen this modern, cantilevered frame rather than a divan. There wasn't much room, but it gave them a modicum of cover, while he tried to think.

"_Edward…!"_

"Shhh. Stay here and don't move," he whispered, letting her go and climbing awkwardly over her to go back the way they'd come.

"You _bastard!"_ shrieked a familiar voice, as Edward emerged from under the bed and pushed himself up. Bella's phone was on the bedside table and he grabbed it and tossed it on the floor, kicking it under the bed.

The sinister, black-clad form turned, stalking around the end of the bed, and Edward knew he had to move or risk being backed into a corner, practically naked and without any kind of weapon. He also needed to draw the attacker away from Bella.

Jumping up on the bed, he scrambled across it and hurled himself at his dressing room door.

"I'm gonna kill you, you lying bastard, and then I'm gonna kill that stupid _cunt_ you married," their assailant yelled, and now there was no doubt who it was.

He wrenched open the sliding door and dashed inside, as she came running back around the bed. He pawed at the wall to turn the light on, knowing he had only seconds to find a weapon. If he'd been alone he could have locked himself inside to gain a little time, but he couldn't afford to leave Bella unprotected. He prayed she stayed under the bed and that she had grabbed her phone.

"_Ahhhhhhhhhhhh." _The unholy scream turned his blood to ice as she lurched towards him, knife raised above her head, like something from a Hitchcock movie.

Edward lunged towards the back wall as he felt the knife slash at his upper back. Ignoring the searing pain, his eyes lit upon a pair of wooden shoe stretchers sitting atop his dresser and he reached out to hook two fingers in the loop of one of the turning handles. Another sudden burning flash in his shoulder caused him to gasp out loud, but he managed to turn, swinging the hard, maple-wood shoe stretcher in a wide arc, hoping to make contact with her head.

He missed his mark, and the foot-shaped wooden block glanced across her jaw with a sharp crack which caused her lip to explode with blood, and she let out an inhuman squeal, like a pig in a slaughterhouse.

But it didn't stop her, and not only was Edward now up against the wall, but the force of his swing meant that he was off-balance. With his shoulder and ribs exposed, the diminutive woman, who Edward now knew to be Jane, dived under his arm and thrust the knife again.

At the last second, Edward twisted away, so that it slashed open his flesh without going deep. He knew he was running out of options and that, if he didn't take her down, she was going to land a potentially fatal blow.

She danced back, out of his reach, wincing as she wiped blood from her chin. "Does it hurt, you fucker? I hope it fucking hurts!" she screamed.

Again, she raised her arm, and Edward tried to lunge towards her with the wooden block, only to slip in his own blood and go down on one knee.

He thought he heard the sound of breaking glass coming from the bedroom, but had no time to process it. His only thought now was that Bella must survive, that he must hold out until the police got here.

He went to push himself up as the malevolent troll, once again, lurched towards him, but his bare feet could get no purchase in the slick blood pooling round him. Throwing up his hands, he could only hope he would be able to grab the blade as it came down.

The sound of the dressing room door sliding back hard on its runner with an explosive crash drew his attention and caused Jane's head to whip around.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU_ BITCH!"_

Edward gasped at the sight of his wife standing inside the doorway, legs apart and hair wild around her head. She had in her hands the long base of the tall floor lamp from the bedroom, and was holding it in both hands like a lance, the shade and bulb smashed to shards of jagged glass and metal.

She was magnificent.

And she was fucking livid.

For a moment, Jane was confused, and then she swung fully towards Bella, a triumphant grin adding to the maniacal gleam in her cold, blue eyes.

Bella's heart pounded in her chest, but she stood her ground—she'd achieved her goal of distracting the ghastly hobgoblin from her attack on Edward. Planting one foot firmly in front of the other, she held the broken end of the lamp defensively, pointing it at her attacker.

"Just give me an excuse, you fucking psycho!" she snarled.

"Bella, no, get back," Edward yelled, trying to push himself up and gasping in pain.

But Jane had a new mission, one she was going to enjoy. She would eviscerate the limey whore and then she'd cut Edward's dick off.

Jane took a step towards Bella, grinning from ear to ear as she saw the determined look in Bella's eyes falter slightly. Encouraged in her belief that the scrawny Brit would turn tail and run, presenting her with the perfect target, she lurched menacingly, but frowned when Bella stood her ground, despite her obvious fear. Screaming like a banshee, Jane hurled herself forward, clearly expecting her adversary to withdraw, her momentum taking her straight into Bella's improvised weapon, the broken glass of the shade and metal base of the light bulb driving deep into her chest, halting her progress and causing the knife to drop from her twitching fingers.

She looked at Bella and then down at the long metal shaft protruding from between her small breasts, as blood spurted out and drenched her long-sleeved, black top.

Bella gasped in horror as Jane dropped to her knees with a look of wide-eyed surprise on her doll-like face, and then just crumpled to one side, pulling the lampstand out of Bella's unresisting grip.

"_Bella!_"

She raised her eyes from the body on the floor to meet Edward's wide, horrified gaze, as he was finally able to push himself upright, using his right hand to hold his left arm to his chest. She took in the blood pouring down his arm and oozing from the slash in his side, and her hand flew up to her mouth.

"Edward? Oh my God, Edward!"

She started to move, but he held his hand up, and for an awful moment she thought the look of horror was because he was disgusted with her and what she'd done. But then he pushed himself off the wall and stepped over Jane, walking towards where Bella stood inside the door.

When he reached her, his hands came up and cupped her cheeks, his eyes roaming all over her face. And then he was pulling her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and ignoring the pain from his wounds. Relieved beyond measure that Edward was alive and that he wasn't appalled by her actions, Bella threw her arms round his waist and clung to him equally tightly, as he buried his face in her neck.

"My sweet girl," he whispered against her skin. "Oh, my brave, beautiful girl, I love you so much."

A sob shook him, as shock and pain finally took hold, and he squeezed her even tighter.

Bella pulled her arms from around his waist and reached up to wrap them around his neck. She, too, was crying now, and they clung to one another for several minutes, as if afraid to ever let go.

"I love you too, Edward," she whispered.

The sound of police sirens cut through the silence of the night, and they finally pulled apart just enough to be able to look at each other.

"Oh my God, Edward… there's so much blood." Bella stepped back further and looked at him, aghast. She pulled her hands away and saw that they, too, were now covered in blood, and she tried to turn him around so she could see where it was coming from, but he resisted.

The sirens were now deafening, and they could tell the police were in the Mews. As if to confirm their thoughts, there was suddenly a loud banging at the front door.

Bella looked up at Edward and then turned and walked out of the dressing room to gather up the white terry robe from the bench at the foot of the bed, bringing it over to Edward and holding it for him to put on. He gasped at the pain in his shoulder, but let her help him. She guided him out of the dressing room and over to the bed, where she made him sit. Then, as the banging downstairs got ever louder, she went over to the window and called down.

"Hang on, I'll be right down. We need an ambulance, my husband's been stabbed." Bella's voice hitched on the last word, and she had to take a deep breath. Then she went into the bathroom and found her own robe, which she slipped on before leaving Edward to go downstairs to let the police in.


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This story and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

My thanks to MauiGirl60, my brilliant beta, and to Cared and Midnight Cougar.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN  
**

**Wednesday 17 August 2011**

It was late afternoon when Tyler pulled up outside Claridges. Edward had been released from A&E at Charing Cross Hospital just after three o'clock, with close to fifty stitches in his shoulder, back and side, and his left arm in a sling. It seemed he had been incredibly lucky, because although all the cuts were long and very painful, none were excessively deep, nor had they cut into any vital organs. The worst of the wounds was the one running down his ribcage, where there was little fatty tissue to absorb the blow, and x-rays revealed the tip of the knife had nicked one of his ribs.

Edward had been given a plentiful supply of strong pain medication and both he and Bella were exhausted, but as Jay Mews was a crime scene, they couldn't go home. The fact was, of course, that neither of them wanted to return to a place of so much violence and devastation, so it was an easy decision for Bella to call Lynda at the office and get her to find them a hotel room. The girl came up trumps, with a suite at Edward's favourite hotel, and she also went above and beyond by going to Marks & Spencer's to buy them some clothes to put on, just so they would be dressed in more than their underwear when they checked in.

The police, of course, had questioned both of them, and Bella was aware that the Scene of Crime Officers had been called in to examine the dead body in Edward's dressing room. Initial reports back from SOCO seemed to confirm their version of events, but the police were obviously keen to find out exactly what had occurred in that house.

In the aftermath of the night's events, as one of the constables started talking to her about what had happened, Bella suddenly felt horribly nauseated. Looking around her in a panic, she was fortunate that she spotted a litter bin in the corner. Just in time, she lurched across to it, flipped the lid open and vomited copiously. After a few minutes, she returned, pale and weak-kneed, to her seat.

"Are you okay to carry on, Mrs Cullen?"

Bella wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and looked tiredly up at the young constable.

"Yeah… I just… I sort of just realised… I _killed_ someone…" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head into her hands.

Removing his cap, the officer sat down next to Bella and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I know this is really difficult for you at the moment—understandably—but I just need a few general details right now. You and your husband will have to make a statement to CID, but I just need to ask a few questions now. Okay?"

Bella dropped her hands and sat up, a look of resignation on her face. She nodded at him.

"Right. So can you tell me, did you know your assailant?"

Bella gave him a rueful smile. "You could say that. She tried to kill me in Italy a few weeks ago."

When her interrogator looked at her askance, Bella turned on her chair, opened her robe and pulled up the camisole she'd been sleeping in. The dressing underneath was now crumpled and grubby, peeling away from her skin on one side, and she lifted it a little further to show him the bullet wound.

For his part, he tried very hard—and mostly succeeded—to be professional, giving her long legs , flat stomach and pert breasts no more than a cursory glance.

"You can check my story with the Italian police in Volterra, and with Interpol and the FBI."

He looked suitably impressed, scribbling in his notebook, and then nodded at her to continue.

Bella talked to him for what seemed like hours, until they were both informed that Edward was now stitched up and able to talk.

Bella hurried to his side, where he was lying in a curtained cubicle, the officer following close behind.

Edward went through his own story while they waited for the doctor to sign him out, and Bella went off to call Lynda.

And then Tyler was there and they were finally free to leave, for which they were deeply thankful.

"I went to the house, sir, but the police are there and wouldn't let me anywhere near—there's blue tape everywhere." Tyler was apologetic, but Edward patted him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Tyler. Just take us to Claridges—Bella's organised us a suite there and I just want to go lie down and sleep for twelve hours."

**~o0o~**

When they got to their room, despite their exhaustion, the one thing they both wanted was to wash off the blood, both Edward's and Jane's. With all his injuries, a shower was out of the question, so Bella ran a bath, making sure the water didn't come up above Edward's waist. Then, carefully and oh so gently, she washed him with the soft, natural sponge which her newest favourite person, Lynda, had purchased, as part of a luxury toiletries kit from Body Shop, and washed his hair.

Once he was clean, she helped him put on the new underwear she'd found in the shopping bag, and got him into bed, with a glass of water and his pain medication set out on the bedside cabinet.

She herself then took a quick shower, put on the new clingy tank top and matching shorts from the bag and then slipped into bed next to Edward. He was sitting up against the headboard, his sling discarded, and his eyes closed. As soon as the mattress dipped, his eyes shot open, and for a moment his face was awash with panic.

"Jesus, B, you made me jump."

"Sorry, my love, I didn't realise you were asleep."

He shook his head, and started to lift his arm in order to pull her into his side, but his wince of pain persuaded Bella that cuddling just wasn't practicable—at least, not tonight.

"Goddamn that bitch to hell," Edward groaned. "This was so not how I hoped to spend tonight."

Bella sighed, but said nothing. The irony of the situation was that because she had missed the appointment with her own GP, she had asked the A&E doctor to check her wound and remove the stitches, which he was happy to do. He remarked on the quality of her surgery and told her that she had healed remarkably well, which meant that she could carry on as normal.

Normal. She was starting to forget what that was.

"Take your pills, Edward, and try and get some sleep."

He pouted at her. "Don't I at least get a goodnight kiss?"

Bella chuckled, and then got up 0n her knees. Throwing one leg over Edward's lap, she straddled him, cupping his face, and capturing his lips with hers. Immediately, his good right arm came up and he buried his fingers in her hair. Opening up to one another, they revelled in the closeness, but all too soon, Edward was wincing and Bella was backing off.

"Noooo, I wanna kiss you some more," Edward whined, like a bratty kid.

"No, no more tonight. Take your pills… and tell Junior to stand down."

Edward snorted. "He's never taken a blind bit of notice of me before, I doubt he's gonna start now!"

Eventually, they settled down facing one another, with Edward lying on his good side. Bella had put pillows behind him so that he wouldn't be able to roll over on to his sore back, and in this way, exhaustion dragged them quickly into sleep.

**~o0o~**

**Thursday 18 – Thursday 25 August 2011**

The days that followed took on a somewhat surreal quality, as Bella and Edward languished like royalty at Claridges, whilst the world came to them.

Pretty much the first thing that Edward did the next morning was to call his legal team, who dispatched a criminal law solicitor. The lawyer talked to both of them at length before two detectives from Bow Street police station turned up to interview them.

In the cold light of day, Bella inevitably began to worry about charges of manslaughter or even murder, despite Edward's injuries. The case for self-defence rose and fell on the question of 'reasonable force'. Edward, of course, had been stabbed three times, but none of the wounds were, up to the point Bella interceded, life-threatening. Neither of them were in any doubt, however, that the fourth attempt would have been, in all likelihood, fatal. At the very least, it was reasonable for them to have _assumed_ that this would have been the case.

In addition, the lawyer had said it was important to contend that the lamp had been employed as a defensive weapon rather than an offensive one, and that the bulb had been broken when she knocked off the shade, and not as a deliberate attempt to form a lethal weapon.

Their solicitor, Nigel Comstock, did his job well, making sure that neither Edward nor Bella answered any questions which he considered to be self-incriminating. At the end of the interview, the CID officers, although somewhat non-committal, seemed to be leaning towards the opinion that Bella had, indeed, acted in self-defence.

The older of the two officers, Detective Sergeant Burnley, glanced down at his notes and then back at the couple sitting across from him.

"We'll need you both to come down to the station when Mr Cullen is fit enough, to give formal statements. At that time, we'll pass the file to the Crown Prosecution Service, who will decide whether there is a case to answer. However, on the basis of what you've told me, and bearing in mind the previous, near-fatal attack on Mrs Cullen, I'm pretty sure they won't be interested in taking this to trial."

He stood and held his hand out to Edward, who pushed himself stiffly to his feet and shook it firmly.

"Thank you, Sergeant, I appreciate your candour. I can honestly say that, if it hadn't been for my wife's bravery, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead now, or at the very least, fighting for my life in hospital."

"Edward!" Bella jumped up and grabbed hold of his good arm, resting her forehead against his biceps. "Don't even say it, please."

He smiled down at her, pulling his arm from her grasp and wrapping it around her shoulders.

Comstock stepped forward offering his own hand to the detective. "Let's hope the CPS agrees, and we can just forget this whole unfortunate business."

Shortly after, both Comstock and the police officers left.

Later, Edward's Personal Shopper turned up from Harvey Nichols in Knightsbridge, and set about taking notes of everything they would need for the next few days, at least until they could get back into the house. Neither of them were keen to spend any time there, and it was decided that they would stay on at Claridges until Edward was fit enough to travel and the police had—hopefully—given them the all-clear. At that time, they hoped to still grab a few days' holiday before heading to New York.

Whilst they were stuck in limbo, waiting for a decision from the CPS, they had decided to check out properties for sale in Cambridge, and had made appointments to look at several the following week. Bella was keen to get things sorted in good time ahead of term starting on 13th October.

The following day, Edward and Bella presented themselves at Bow Street police station. They were greeted by Detective Sergeant Burnley and his colleague, Detective Constable Hart, who took them to separate interview rooms. Edward's solicitor, Nigel Comstock, had accompanied them, and had brought one of his Partners to represent Bella.

An hour and a half later, they were on their way, with an assurance from Sergeant Burnley that he would contact them in a few days to let them know whether they could leave the country or if they should start preparing for trial.

True to his word, Burnley called on Thursday. They were relaxing on the sofa, watching a DVD—Edward leaning against the arm, his long legs stretched out along the couch, and his arm wrapped tightly around Bella where she sat between his legs with her back against his chest.

Edward pulled his ringing phone out of his jeans pocket. "Cullen."

Bella looked up and over her shoulder at him when he said nothing for a moment.

"Okay... yes… okay… fine. Thanks for letting us know. Yes, she's good, thanks… okay… okay. Thank you, Sergeant, I really appreciate it… yes, we will… thanks again. Goodbye."

Bella had now turned completely and was kneeling between Edward's legs, an expectant look on her face.

"Well?"

"The CPS have concluded their report, and have recommended that no charges should be brought. They said it's a clear case of self-defence. It's over, Bella… it's all over."

Edward's voice cracked a little on the last word, as Bella gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, a loud sob erupted from her, and she lurched forward, straddling his lap and throwing her arms around the back of his neck. He winced slightly, but didn't hesitate to wrap his own arms around her waist and hold her tight.

It was only then, as he held his weeping wife close to his chest, that Edward could admit to himself that he had been terrified that Bella might be arrested. He knew that what she had done had almost certainly saved his life, and that she had been merely protecting him and herself with her actions. However, he'd read often enough of people defending themselves against attack and being prosecuted, so it was by no means clear-cut that Bella would be considered innocent of any wrong-doing.

He could feel his own tears now, as relief swamped him.

"Bella, my Bella… it's okay now, love… it's over… it's over…" His voice caught, and he pulled back to look at her.

They stared at one another as tears trickled down both their faces. Bella sniffed and pulled her arms from around his shoulders so she could cup his face in her hands.

"Oh, Edward…" but she could say no more.

Edward brought his own hands up and buried them in her hair. He pulled her back to him and kissed her soundly. They both tasted salt as they opened up to one another, their tongues stroking and dancing as Bella's hands dropped from Edward's face to his chest. Her hands kept moving down until they reached the hem of his t-shirt, and slipped under to stroke across his abs and then up to his chest.

Edward moaned low in the back of his throat, his right hand dropping to her hip and pulling her against him. He pushed up, grinding his growing erection into the hot spot between her legs.

Bella gasped and moved against him as their kisses became more frantic. But then, as Edward leaned forward, he couldn't help a hiss of pain as fire sliced through his ribcage and shoulder blade.

Bella immediately pulled back, eyes wide with concern.

"Goddammit to hell, don't stop, B," he gasped, trying to pull her back, despite the throbbing ache in his back and side.

"No, Edward, you're in pain. I'm sorry, hun, I shouldn't have got you worked up. I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh, don't… don't apologise. None of this is your fault."

He leaned back against the cushions, his face a mask of defeat as Bella climbed off the sofa and went into the bedroom. She returned moments later with a glass of water in one hand and a tablet in the other.

"Here, take this. I'll call room service and get us something to eat."

**~o0o~**

Later, as they lay in bed together, facing one another, Edward reached out and slid the back of his fingers up and down Bella's jaw.

"Hey, why so sad? It really is all over now, Bella. And you and me… well, we're going to be all right, aren't we?"

Bella was pulled out of her introspective moment by the plaintive note in Edward's voice.

"Oh, Edward, of course. I love you… so much."

He stretched his neck towards her, placing a soft kiss on her mouth. "I love you too, more than I've ever loved anything or anyone. Please, won't you tell me what's troubling you?"

"It's just… it seems so wrong to feel so happy when…"

"What? What is it?"

Bella closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, to find Edward's eyes gazing intently back at her.

"I killed someone, Edward," she whispered. "I took a life."

"But—"

"No, let me finish. I know Jane was hateful and clearly insane, but she was someone's daughter, Edward… someone's child. It just… feels wrong to be happy I got away with killing her… you know?"

"No, B, I don't. You didn't get away with anything. Listen to me, would you feel this way if she'd killed me? Do you think I would want her to still be alive if you were dead?"

"No—"

"No. Exactly. It was her or us, and I'm glad she's dead. Jesus, Bella, she'd already tried to kill you once, and damn near succeeded. If you hadn't shown up in the closet when you did, she would have stabbed me again. I couldn't get up, and I couldn't grab hold of her, she was too quick, and when I fell… Christ, she was getting ready to kill me, and you stopped her. And you didn't stick that fucking lamp in her chest, she fucking ran into it because she was trying to get to you to stab you with a fucking butcher's knife… _oww, fuck…!"_

He had been getting more and more agitated, and was trying to push himself up, which just made the pain in his ribs flare up again, causing him to roll back against the pillows behind him.

"Edward, be careful, love. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you so." She stroked his face, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek. "You're right, of course, and I know that in my head. And if she'd killed you… well, I would have done whatever it took to rid the world of her loathsome presence. It's just… oh, I don't know, I suppose there's a part of me that feels… triumphant? And that, in turn, makes me feel bad. Regardless of what she did, she was a human being, and presumably there are people in the world who loved her, and my triumph is their loss… can you understand what I mean?"

He rolled back towards her—carefully—and put his hand over hers on his face, turning to kiss her palm.

"I guess I do. And you know what? It just confirms to me, yet again, what an amazing woman you are, and I love you all the more for it. I doubt many would feel such compassion in your situation. But you can't let that compassion stop you from letting yourself be happy, B, you just can't. It's not fair on all the people who love _you."_

She gave him a rather watery smile and nodded her head. Again, he leaned into her, and they kissed softly.

**~o0o~**

**Friday 26 August 2011 **

Despite the good news from the police, Edward and Bella decided to stay on at Claridges for a few more days. Jay Mews was cleared for their return, but neither of them was keen to go back just yet. Under instructions from Edward, Kate had found a crime scene cleaning company, who went in and blitzed the whole place. Although most of the mess was obviously confined to the dressing room, there was damage and blood stains in the bedroom, plus more blood spatter throughout much of the rest of the house. The mattress needed to be replaced, along with the bed linens, and a new lamp purchased, as the original had been taken away as police evidence… not that they wanted it back! Edward left everything with Kate, and she did a great job of organising and overseeing the whole clean-up and redecoration.

Oddly, now that she knew about Edward's marriage to Bella, her attitude towards her boss's wife had changed somewhat, which surprised Bella on the odd occasions the two of them spoke. She could only surmise that it was because any hopes Kate might have harboured about a relationship with Edward beyond work had been dashed. Whatever the reason, she was at least civil now, even mildly solicitous, although Bella doubted they would ever be friends.

But she had to give the woman credit, because when the two of them made their first visit back to the house a week after the attack, there was absolutely no evidence at all that such awful acts of violence had been perpetrated here only days earlier.

It didn't stop Bella shivering as they crossed the threshold. Edward pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

"It's okay, B, there's nothing here that can hurt us now."

"I know, Edward, it's just… a bit creepy being back here."

He didn't say anything, but he had to admit that he, too, felt less than comfortable being in this house. Fortunately, Tyler had insisted on coming in with them and, thankfully, his presence seemed to calm them both.

Upstairs, Tyler preceded them into the bedroom, which definitely took the edge off their joint trepidation, and they then wasted no time gathering together the clothes and possessions they needed for an extended absence. Once they'd completed their packing, Tyler took all but the lightest bags and headed downstairs, followed closely by Edward and Bella, who were happy not to linger.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday 27 – Tuesday 30 August 2011**

On Saturday, they packed a weekend bag each and headed off to Cambridge. Edward had wanted to drive the Aston, but Bella refused to allow it, telling him she wouldn't get in the car if he drove.

"So—what? You want to drive?" Edward cocked a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"The Aston? No thanks. The thought of you having a panic attack the whole way to Cambridge will send me doolally."

Edward frowned. "I'm sure you're a perfectly good driver, Bella, but my insurance won't cover a seventeen-year-old driving the Aston—"

"Well, then, it's just as well I want Tyler to drive us in the Range Rover," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why don't you drive the Range Rover? I can get Kate to arrange for you to be added to the policy… although it would probably be easier for me to drive—I'm fine, so I don't know what you're worrying about."

Bella sighed. "You're not fine, Edward. What if you had to swerve suddenly and it pulled on your stitches, huh? You could lose concentration and the next thing, the car's spinning out of control."

"Jesus, B—fatalistic much?"

"Well, can you blame me, with our track record? And I just know you'll be the world's worst backseat driver if I drive, so just let's ask Tyler to do it."

Edward scowled and threw his hands in the air. "Fine, have it your way, I'll call Tyler. Jesus, no sex, no driving… what next, eh? No red meat or alcohol? I might as well become a bloody monk!"

He stomped off to the bathroom, his irritation inflamed by the giggles which followed him.

"Where are you going?"

He stopped and turned, his scowl deepening.

"If you must know, I'm going to the bathroom to jerk off, as my wife insists on treating me like a geriatric invalid, whilst dressing in a manner which is guaranteed to give me a permanent hard-on!"

Bella gasped, then looked down at herself. She could see nothing particularly sexy about what she was wearing—a simple, black Vivien Westwood sun dress, with a button-up bodice and flared skirt which reached to about six inches above her knees, teamed with flat, Greek-style sandals; she thought she looked rather demure.

Sighing in frustration, Bella followed Edward into the bedroom and then to the bathroom. The door was shut, so she knocked on it.

"Edward, you're not really wanking in there, are you?"

She jumped back with a little shriek when the door flew open. Edward stood, staring down at her, his eyes like blazing emeralds.

"I won't need to if you just let me bend you over the bed."

Bella couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped her, her whole body tingling and lighting up.

"Edward," she breathed.

He took a step towards her, just as the doorbell rang, echoing through the hotel suite.

"Damn and blast it to hell," Edward muttered.

Stepping away from Bella, he took a deep breath and adjusted himself through his jeans.

"Hold that thought," he told her, then turned to let Tyler in.

**~o0o~**

"I still don't understand why you didn't want to use the Bentley—"

"Because it's ostentatious, Edward, and sticks out like a sore thumb. Plus, the streets of Cambridge are very narrow and parking is a nightmare. Tyler will have enough trouble negotiating his way around in this, without faffing about with the Bentley."

Edward huffed. He was sulking because, if he couldn't drive himself, he wanted to be able to travel in the limousine with the privacy screen raised—enabling him to cop a feel whenever Bella would let him get away with it. He had to content himself with surreptitious forays under her dress, his fingers sliding up the inside of her thigh. Annoyingly, Bella would let his hand go so far, and no further, slapping him away with an irritated tsking. Occasionally, he would lean in and whisper outrageous filth in her ear, delighting in her sharp intake of breath and the sudden hardening of her nipples.

"Edward, behave!" she whispered-yelled after one particularly shocking suggestion, which left her wet and wanting.

In this way, they passed the time until Tyler guided the car to a halt in front of the Varsity Hotel in Cambridge city centre.

**~o0o~**

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of house hunting and nocturnal groping. Edward was determined to wear down his beautiful wife, and although she would not let him overly exert himself, he managed to persuade her that he was now able to lie on his back, which meant that if she was inclined to put some effort into it, there was no reason why they shouldn't be able to make love.

"But I don't want to cause any unnecessary friction."

"Listen, there's only one kind of friction I'm bothered about right now, B."

"But what if you pull your stitches?"

"I won't."

"But you might."

"Jesus, Bella, if you don't want me, then just tell me… don't make up excuses."

Edward was beyond frustrated, and was truly beginning to think that Bella, despite her recent declarations, had finally come to her senses and was cooling towards him. He rolled onto his back in the modern four-poster bed in their penthouse suite overlooking the River Cam.

Dragging his hands through his hair, he closed his eyes and let out a massive sigh.

"I'm sorry, B. I shouldn't have assumed you still want the same things as I do. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

When he got no response, he released his hair, opened his eyes and looked to his left. Bella was lying on her side, her head propped on her hand, regarding him impassively.

"Bella?"

"You are _such_ a muppet, Edward, really you are. And here was me thinking that you're this inhumanly gorgeous, supremely self-confident, alpha male, whilst all this time, you've been hiding the fact that you're a bumbling, insecure fool."

She leaned over, placing a hand on his chest and kissing him lightly on his open mouth. As she pulled back, a deep frown etched itself into his face.

"What?"

"Duh-uh, Edward. I'm in love with you. I spend almost every waking hour thinking of all the different ways I want you to shag me, and when I'm asleep I dream about a few more which I'm not entirely sure are even physically possible. In short, I do not want you to sleep on the bloody couch!"

Edward's frown faded, to be replaced by a faintly salacious smirk. He reached across and slipped his hand round the back of her neck, pulling her down for another kiss. As his tongue slid into her mouth, he moved his hand down to her hip and then to her thigh. He gripped it tightly and hooked her leg across, effectively making her straddle him.

"Okay… have it… your… way…" she gasped between kisses. Then she put both hands on his chest and pushed herself up. "But if you burst any of your stitches, do not come crying to me."

She tried to look stern, but was undermined by his grin and the fact that he had his hands under her tank top, cupping her breasts.

"Agreed. Now take it off." His eyes burned green fire, and Bella could do no more than give in.

She pulled her top over her head, chuckling softly as Edward kept his hands firmly in place. Her chuckle turned to a moan, though, when he rubbed his thumbs over her stiffening nipples.

Suddenly, she climbed off him and off the bed, quickly peeling off the low-rise, cotton mini-briefs she was wearing. Before she got back on the bed, she hooked her fingers into Edward's boxers and pulled them down, allowing his stiff cock to spring free.

On her knees between his legs, Bella gazed down at Edward's swollen dick. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his length, making him groan and curse.

Releasing him, Bella slid her fingers inside herself, causing Edward to raise himself up on his elbows and gasp.

"Fucking hell, Bella, wha—?"

Without further ado, she withdrew her fingers, which now glistened with the evidence of her own mounting arousal, and took hold, once more, of Edward's weeping member.

"Oh, Jesus fuck, B…" He dropped back down on the bed and threw his good arm up over his eyes, knowing that if he watched her now, he would cum like a fifteen-year-old.

Bella continued her ministrations for a few minutes, running her hand from base to tip, gliding her thumb over the end on the upstroke before sliding her hand back down his tumescent shaft. All the while, Edward grunted soft moans of pleasure, whilst keeping his eyes covered.

But his arm flew away from his face when, on the next down stroke, he felt Bella's hot, wet mouth envelop him, her tongue swirling across the sensitive, nerve-packed head and dipping into his slit.

"_Fuuuuucccckkk!" _he cried out, but before he could really even process the exquisite pleasure, her mouth closed around him and she sucked him in… hard.

His cock hit the back of her throat as her free hand cupped his balls and started gently massaging them. As she did, her index finger rubbed rhythmically against his perineum, causing an explosion of sensation.

"Bella… oh, fuck, Bella… _ahhhhhh…."_ His orgasm rocketed through him and he was powerless to control his hips as he thrust into her mouth, releasing volcanically down her throat. She swallowed convulsively, taking everything he gave her, before sitting back and gazing wantonly at him.

Edward stared at her as he waited for his breathing to slow, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this extraordinary woman.

"Come here," he rasped.

Bella arched a quizzical eyebrow at him.

He pushed himself up on his elbows. "Bella, get that sweet ass up here and Sit. On. My. Face!"

Bella's eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. Their eyes locked, hers like twin pools of hot, dark chocolate, his like a cool, verdant rainforest.

"Bella," he whispered, lying back and holding out his hand.

On her knees, she started to move up his body, careful to avoid his healing wounds, until she felt his large, warm hands cup her bottom and lift her over his face. The gesture tipped her forward, forcing her to grab hold of the headboard.

At first, she was afraid to put her weight on him, but his hands moved up to grasp her hips and move her over him, and then his tongue was running up and down her blood-infused lips and she was lost.

She moaned, long and low, as Edward's tongue probed and licked. He first circled her clit and then flicked at it rapidly, eliciting sharp, gasping cries of pleasure from Bella as she unconsciously undulated over him.

Because he couldn't trust himself to support her with only his one good arm, Edward had to forego slipping his fingers inside her, but redoubled his attention to her clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

Bella's scream of pleasure and panting breaths told him she was close, and when her thighs tightened around his head and she pushed herself against him, he knew she was just seconds away.

"_Edwarrrrddd!. _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck… yes… _yesssss…"_

That was the end of any coherency she had been able to muster, her remaining sounds merely gasps and moans as her orgasm rolled through her like a bush fire.

Edward licked and sucked at her until she calmed, then lifted her gently off him and took a deep breath.

Bella giggled breathlessly and moved down his body.

"You should take up free-diving with breath control like that," she told him, before pressing her mouth briefly to his.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and grinned against her lips.

"Keep going, love, your old man's got something for you further down."

Bella laughed with delight, lifting herself slightly and looking down between her legs to see Edward's once again rigid cock twitching against his stomach.

Squirming into position, she raised herself up on her knees and reached beneath her to take him in hand and guide him into her hot, wet centre.

Dropping down, she impaled herself on Edward, causing them to groan and curse in unison. Unbeknownst to the other, they both felt an overwhelming feeling of… completeness… of coming home. It was wondrous, and when they looked at each other, there was a realisation… an acceptance of what it meant to them both. Settling herself on him with a little wiggle of her hips, Bella slid her hands up his abdomen to his chest, avoiding the surgical dressing across his ribs.

Edward ran his hands up her thighs and grabbed her hips, urging her to start moving.

"Your back—"

"My back is fine, just… oh God, please move, baby, I need to feel you move."

Bella needed no further encouragement. She put her hands on his shoulders and rocked gently, revelling in the blissful sensation of being filled by Edward's amazing cock. The thought alone had her moving more urgently, rotating her hips on every down stroke, which elicited grunts of pleasure from Edward.

His fingers gripped harder as he pushed her down on him, whilst, at the same time, drive himself up into her harder and harder.

"Jesus, B… oh God, I've missed this," he groaned, letting his eyes fall from her gorgeous face down to where he could see his cock move inside her. "Christ, baby, I'm nearly there… touch yourself for me… please!"

Bella moaned at the raw desire in his voice and immediately took her right hand off his chest and placed it, fingers splayed, over her abdomen. She slid it slowly down, through the neat tuft of dark curls, and pushed her middle finger inside, just above where she and Edward were joined. She was slick with their combined juices and quickly found her swollen and needy clit, rubbing it furiously as she watched Edward watch her hand.

She was now riding him hard, the slap of flesh filling the quiet of the room, as he jerked frantically into her, and she couldn't control the soft, keening cry which grew louder as she approached her climax.

"Bella… fuck, yes, I'm there… _fuck!_"

Edward twitched and jerked into her once more, blowing his load deep inside her, as she shouted her pleasure and collapsed onto his chest.

"Holy fuck, B, that was… _incredible!_ God, I love you."

Bella kissed the spot right over his heart. "I love you too, Edward… I'll never stop."

He wrapped his arms around her. He could feel his stitches pull a little, making him wince, but he knew they were fine—he was due to get them taken out after the weekend, so he was pretty sure a little horizontal loving wasn't going to do him any harm.

"I couldn't stop if I tried, my love." He reached down to cup her face, pulling it away from his chest so he could look at her. "You're my life now, Bella, there will _never_ be anyone else for me."

The smile she gave him lit up her face, and his heart. They kissed, their passion spent, but their love acknowledged and avowed between them.

* * *

**End Note:**

A&E – Accident & Emergency (ER)

Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) – In the UK, all decisions regarding whether a case can be taken to trial are made by the CPS, a Government body, headed up by the Director of Public Prosecutions, which advises on whether there is sufficient evidence to try someone.


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks so much to MauiGirl60, who waited so patiently for this final chapter to arrive for her to beta. Thanks also to Cared and Midnight Cougar, and to all of you, my loyal readers, who stuck with this story even when you weren't sure what to make of it.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT  
**

**Tuesday 30 August 2011**

After three days of tramping round other people's homes, Bella found the perfect house—a three-storey, Victorian townhouse, a ten minute walk from Magdalene College and the river. She fell in love with it immediately and, as chance would have it, the property was empty. It had just been extensively refurbished, and when she offered the estate agent a cash deal at £20,000 below the asking price of £800,000, he practically tore her hand off. It was agreed that the normal four-week delay between signing and exchange of contracts could be waived and that as soon as they were prepared and signed, she could move in.

Bella was ecstatic, and Edward couldn't help but be swept up by her excitement at owning her first home. He laughed joyously at all her plans for the house, but couldn't help wondering how he would fit into them. Now, though, he knew they would talk about it, that they would work something out.

Over dinner that night, before they were due to return to London in the morning, Edward ordered champagne, much to Bella's surprise. She hadn't had a drink since that dreadful night in London when Jane had come calling, and had decided that she no longer wanted—or needed—to use it as an emotional crutch.

"Just a glass, B, to celebrate the house and getting into college, and… well, you and me." He smiled at her as the waiter returned with two champagne flutes, which he placed in front of them. Edward lifted his glass, holding it up towards her, and she copied the gesture, the clinking of lead crystal ringing out, high and clear.

"To us, Edward, and to everything that comes with it." She grinned across the table at him as she sipped the chilled wine, giggling as the bubbles exploded up her nose.

After the first mouthful, he put his glass down and reached for Bella's left hand with his right, grasping her fingers and rubbing his thumb across the soft skin on the back of her hand.

"I love you, Bella, and I don't want to do the long distance thing. I think it would kill me to be apart from you now."

He looked down at their joined hands and then back up to her beautiful face, which wore a slightly quizzical expression.

"I don't want to be away from you either, Edward, but I can't live in New York—or London, for that matter. At least, not until I finish university." She cocked her head to one side in question.

Edward fixed his gaze back on Bella's hand in his. "I know you can't, B, and I wouldn't ask you to. What I want—if you can bear it—is to live with you here… in Cambridge. I mean, I know it will probably be a massive downer for you, and—" He stopped when he glanced up and saw the look of utter bewilderment on Bella's face.

"But what about SP? How will you arrange it?"

Before he could respond, the waiter approached to take their order. When he'd gone, Edward once again took Bella's hand.

"Okay, well, I need to start by saying that the company is still very important to me, and I fully intend to work hard to maintain and broaden its success. But—and it's a big but—it's no longer my main priority."

Bella cocked her head to one side, regarding him thoughtfully. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved her, but the company… well, that was his baby.

"But SP… I don't understand, you've poured your heart and soul into the company, Edward. When did it stop being your priority?"

Edward frowned and shook his head. "Since I spent 24 hours thinking you were going to die, Bella. Since I held you in my arms and watched as your life's blood poured out of you and my heart broke because I thought yours had stopped."

His hand gripped hers so hard it was almost starting to hurt, but she was trapped by the intensity of his gaze, held fast as she witnessed the profound pain which filled his beautiful, moss green eyes. She blinked away the tears she could feel welling up.

"From that moment, I realised that nothing—absolutely _nothing_—in this world was more important than you and the time I have with you. Bella, I'm sorry… I hate the thought of ruining your college experiences, but I need to be here with you as much as work will allow. I can work from home a lot of the time, use video conferencing, and just travel down to London for the day when a face-to-face meeting can't be avoided. As for New York… well, I've given it a lot of thought and have an idea I want to discuss with you before I make a decision."

There was such a hopeful look on his face—almost desperate, in fact—as Bella sat mute across from him trying to formulate a response. Just as she was about to speak, however, the waiter returned with their starters. Reluctantly, Edward released Bella's hand and sat back, waiting for him to leave.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, as he gazed—unseeing—at his food.

"I'm being selfish, aren't I? I'm sorry, B. Maybe we can compromise. Maybe I should stay in London and you could come down every weekend…"

"Edward…"

"…Or, if you've got a party or something, you could come every other weekend—although, to be honest, that would be really difficult for me… God, I'd miss you…"

"Edward…"

"… But if you can't make it down for the weekend, I could come up to Cambridge during the week for a couple of days, or something… just… God, Bella, I need more than two or three weekends each semester…"

"_Edward!"_

He looked up at her, his brows knitted, to see her reach across the table and grab his hand, just as he'd done to her earlier.

"Edward, are you saying you want to live with me here full time… in Cambridge… stay with me until I graduate? Because if you are, that's what I want too." She smiled at him—a big, joyously happy smile.

"You do? You mean, all the time?"

"As much time as you can possibly give me. I want that… I want you… in my bed, every night."

Edward swallowed and licked his lips. He then turned to catch the waiter's eye.

"Can you send our food up to our room, please—we're in the Masters Penthouse. My wife is… uh… feeling a little feverish." He gave Bella a dark, positively lascivious look. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and pulled her to her feet, relishing the hot blush which suffused her cheeks.

"Of course, sir." The waiter took their untouched plates and whisked them away to the kitchen.

"Feverish, Edward? Seriously? And I hope you're not suggesting we have… S-E-X. I don't want you to overdo it." She whispered the last part, making Edward laugh out loud as he led her quickly out of the restaurant towards the lift.

"Well, I'm not rushing back to the room to watch TV, Bella."

The fact was, much to Edward's annoyance, after they'd made love the day before, she had kept him at arms' length, saying she didn't want to push their luck.

They had reached the lift, the doors opening immediately when Edward pressed the button. He dragged her in and stabbed the button for the top floor, wrapping his arms around Bella as the doors closed.

"Edward, your stitches, we have to be care—"

He stopped her talking by the simple expedient of covering her mouth with his, and they were still kissing when the doors opened again. In fact, they continued kissing as he backed her towards the Penthouse, only breaking off while he found his key-card and opened the door. As soon as they were inside, he kicked the door shut and started kissing her again, whilst continuing to move her in the direction of the bedroom.

"Edward… mmmph… what about… mmmmm… the food….?"

"What… about it?"

He'd unzipped her dress and was pushing it off, when she pressed her hands against his chest, forcing him to stop kissing her and take a step back. Her action, which was intended to put a damper on his ardour, had rather the opposite effect, as it merely aided the descent of her dress to the floor, leaving her in just her underwear and shoes.

"Ummmmh, fuck the food, I've got all I want to eat right here." Edward moved back in, sliding his hands into her hair and kissed her again, his tongue languidly pushing into her mouth and tangling with hers.

"Edwar—mmmmmh."

His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, and down her neck, while his nimble fingers made short work of her bra clasp. Bella moaned as he peeled the scrap of lace and satin from her body.

"Oh, God, Edward, please… I don't want you to hurt yourself…"

"Shhh, I won't. We already proved that. Now, get on the bed… hands and knees… If you're that worried, I'll do you from behind," he demanded huskily.

Bella gasped softly, backing slowly away from him as he pulled urgently at his shirt, a button flying off as he lost patience. Her eyes moved over his torso, taking in his smooth skin, his defined pecs and abs—he was such a beautiful man. But his beauty was marred by the very obvious dressings which were visible on his left biceps and across his ribs on the right. Unseen, but still very much part of Bella's perception, was the third dressing over his shoulder blade.

Edward paused as he went to unzip his trousers.

"I'm fine, B, stitches out tomorrow—remember?" He made a twirling gesture in the air, indicating that she should turn around and get on the bed. Unable to resist any longer, she complied.

He kicked off his shoes and bent to pull his socks off, before removing his trousers and climbing up on the bed behind Bella.

"Just let me make love to you, beautiful girl," he whispered, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and bending to kiss her on the nape of her neck.

She moaned softly, turning her head to look over her shoulder, and he leaned further forward to capture her lips. As they kissed, he gripped her hip with his left hand and slid the right one around her until he could push two fingers inside her. Already wet, he revelled in the feel of her—she was always ready for him… always.

"Oh, babe, you are so fucking wet for me," he groaned, straightening his back and pushing his fingers deeper and then curling and turning them to find that magical spot inside her that acted like a booster switch. She cried out and pushed herself into him, feeling his thick, hard dick twitch against her buttocks.

"Oh, God, Edward… fuck me, _please,_" she moaned, pressing herself harder against him, and looking at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and full of desire, and he was so turned on he could barely think.

But instinct took over and he pulled his fingers from her, causing another low, feral whimper. Using the moisture from Bella's dripping sex, he took hold of his aching cock and pumped it a couple of times, before lining it up and pushing home.

"Yessssss," she hissed as he thrust into her, balls deep.

She was tight, hot and wet… and she was perfect. Not for the first—or the last—time, Edward ruminated about how this small, fine-boned woman could take all of him without a problem. But then, all thought was driven from his mind as Bella pushed against him and rotated her hips at the same time, making him gasp with the pleasure of it.

"Fuck, Bella… do that again."

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a sexy smirk. Then she repeated the movement, grinding a little harder against him and deliberately flexing her vaginal muscles.

"Oh, Christ…" he gasped, tightening his hold on her hips to stop her doing it a third time.

He heard her giggle, so he reached up and cupped her right breast, giving it a quick squeeze, which made her squeak like a teddy bear.

Grinning, he withdrew his hand and put it back on her hip. He eased himself slowly out of her until only the tip was still inside, and then he slammed into her hard.

Bella cried out, but it was choked off as Edward started to move inside her, slowly at first, gyrating his hips each time he pushed into her, and leaning over her so that he could lay warm, wet kisses along her shoulders and down her spine.

Bella moaned softly, matching every long, deep thrust, until, unable to hold back, she gasped aloud.

"Oh, God, Edward, harder, please."

Edward immediately complied, gripping her hips more firmly, and increasing the force of his movements.

"Yes, oh, God, yes. Faster, Edward. I'm nearly… oh, fuck… there!"

Edward momentarily released Bella's hips, leaning forward to gather up her hair, which he wound around his right hand. Then, with his left hand back on her hip, steadying her, he pulled her head up and began to pound into her, his flesh slapping against hers. He grunted in pleasure as she met each furious thrust, her gasps and shrieks escalating in volume as his hips pistoned furiously. Her cries became higher pitched, and he could feel her inner muscles pulsing and rippling along his length, bringing him tantalisingly close to release.

And then her orgasm was surging through her, and she was unable to stop herself from dropping onto her forearms, her head hitting the bed, which effectively changed the angle of Edward's thrusts, forcing him deeper.

"Oh, dear God, yessss_…!_"

He clenched his jaw, the exquisite, endless pleasure so intense, he could barely stand it, and then he was erupting deep inside her, her body clamping around him, taking everything he had to give her. And he knew… they both knew… that it would never—could never be like this with anyone else.

**~o0o~**

They eventually found the food, cold and inedible, outside the door, although they found that the dessert of strawberries and cream made for interesting—and delicious—foreplay.

**~o0o~**

**Wednesday 31 August – Monday 12 September 2011**

The next day, they returned to London, leaving the estate agent to sort out the sale with the owner and their solicitor.

Back in London, they spent a slightly uneasy few days at Jay Mews whilst they attended to various matters, including a hospital appointment for Edward to get his stitches removed. As he had assured Bella, all was well, and the doctor was happy with how his wounds had healed, although he suggested he might want to think about cosmetic surgery. Bella also took the opportunity to get her own injury checked again, with similar results.

The following day, they both went up to SP, as Edward wanted to get an update on what had happened during his absence.

They walked in, hand-in-hand, but as they entered Edward's office, Bella pulled her hand from his and wrapped her arm tightly around his waist, causing him to automatically put his own arm around her shoulders. He smiled down at her quizzically, but Bella wasn't looking at him.

She was looking straight at Kate, frozen in place, her face an expressionless mask.

Opposite her, Lynda jumped up and came round her desk.

"Mr Cullen! Bella! Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you!" she cried.

Bella extricated herself from Edward and moved forward to hug the girl who had been such a Godsend on the morning after Jane's attack.

Pulling back from her, Bella smiled warmly. "Lynda, I'm so glad to see you. I wanted to thank you personally for all you did for us last month. I think I can speak for Edward as well, and I'm pretty sure there will be a substantial bonus paid to you come Christmas… won't there, Edward?" she said, looking up at him.

Edward grinned and shook his head in feigned resignation.

"Well, you're the boss, Mrs Cullen. Who am I to argue?"

Lynda made a sort of squeaking noise and hugged Bella again.

"Oh my days, I can't believe you're married. That is so random," she cried.

Edward and Bella both chuckled and looked at one another.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward noticed that Kate looked, for all the world, as if she was going to vomit. He was suddenly reminded of one of Bella's ridiculous sayings, thinking that Kate looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp, and could barely contain his smirk.

He turned back to the two younger women.

"Lynda, be an angel and get us some drinks, please—my usual and tea for Bella."

"Coming right up," she grinned and disappeared out the door.

Edward turned back to his assistant. "Kate, could you ask Geoff to come up and give us a status report, please."

She merely nodded and picked up the phone, and without another word, Edward opened the door to the inner office and guided Bella through, his hand placed proprietorially on the small of her back.

When they were leaving a couple of hours later, Bella let Edward go ahead, telling him she would catch him up. He gave her a speculative look, but didn't argue.

"Lynda, could you give us five minutes, please," she said, smiling warmly at Kate's assistant.

The girl looked a little shocked, but agreed immediately and left the room swiftly, leaving Bella and Kate alone.

The older woman paled, but said nothing, keeping her eyes firmly on her computer screen.

"Kate, I wanted to have a quick chat. For whatever reason, it seems you and I got off on the wrong foot in the spring, and I think it's time we cleared the air.

"Edward tells me you are an excellent PA, and I must trust his judgement on that. But whatever feelings you harbour for my husband, you need to find a way to deal with them, or you and I are going to fall out in spectacular fashion. I can't fire you, Kate, and, if you're as good as Edward seems to think you are, I don't particularly want to. But, in September, I will be joining the Board and if you and I continue to have a problem, then I will find a way to make your life here very difficult. It may even be that you will fall victim to a new redundancy plan. And make no mistake, Kate—when push comes to shove, Edward will take my side over yours every single time.

"Now, I'm willing to concede that your initial crappy attitude has improved over the last month, and your efforts in dealing with the house were much appreciated, so I'm hoping that we're going to get along better in the future. Because, if not, I suggest you start looking for a new job before my first Board meeting in October."

Throughout Bella's speech, Kate stared determinedly at her PC, but as she became aware that Bella was just standing by her desk waiting for a response, she swivelled in her chair to face her.

Slowly raising her eyes to look at her soon-to-be boss, she was somewhat taken aback by the confident, self-assured young woman staring back at her—it seemed inconceivable that she was still nearly two weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday. Kate sighed, knowing there was no way she could win this.

"I'm sorry, Bel—Miss Sw—Mrs Cullen. My behaviour when we first met was… inexcusable, and I can only offer you my sincere apology. I'd like to say that I, uh, well, I enjoy working for Edward—Mr Cullen, and I'm sure that I can, uh, maintain my professionalism."

Bella said nothing for a full minute, making Kate squirm in discomfort, but then appeared to take pity on her.

"I appreciate the apology, Kate. Let's call it quits and start again. Okay?"

When Kate looked up again, Bella held her hand out, and after a moment's hesitation, Kate stood up and took it, shaking it briefly and giving her a thin smile. It wasn't much, but Bella was willing to accept it… for now.

"Great. Well, I've got to run. I'm glad we had this chance to talk. Goodbye, Kate."

She didn't wait for the other woman's response, merely giving her a quick smile and heading out the door, passing Lynda, who was obviously hovering outside, not wanting to interrupt.

"'Bye, Lynda," she said, giving the girl a quick hug and then walking quickly to the lift to catch up with Edward, who was waiting for her in the back of the Bentley. He looked at her for a moment when she got in the car, but didn't ask her anything, and minutes later, they were pulling out of the underground car park and onto Gower Street for the short drive home.

**~o0o~**

Satisfied that things were running smoothly, on Saturday 3 September, they flew to New York. Having spent more time in London and Cambridge than they had expected, they decided to put back their holiday for a few weeks. Edward was keen to settle certain matters in the US prior to moving up to Cambridge with Bella, and before Bella's birthday party on the 17th, which Jessica's parents were hosting. Bella was excited to see her friends again after everything that had transpired over the last few weeks and Edward wanted everything agreed and in place so they could both relax and enjoy themselves.

**~o0o~**

Being back in New York was cause for both celebration and reflection. They were undoubtedly happy to be there, reconciled and together as a couple, and without any more drama hanging over them. At the same time, however, they were equally conscious that the last time either of them had been there, they had been weighed down by sadness and heartache.

Arriving late in the afternoon, it had been an easy decision just to relax at the apartment for the whole weekend. They had ordered in dinner, followed by an early night, where they took their time exploring and pleasing one another. For Edward, having allowed Bella to dismantle all his walls, the discovery that he revelled in the simple pleasure of just holding her after making love was revelatory. As for Bella, despite Jane's attack on them in London, she couldn't help but feel safe and protected in Edward's embrace—after all, he had saved her from the poison dwarf twice; once when he found her at the roadside in Italy, and a second time when he had risked his own life in order to protect her in London.

**~o0o~**

On Monday, they went into the office, where they were surprised to be greeted by something of a welcoming committee. As they exited the elevator and walked towards Edward's office, what seemed like the entire staff was gathered in the main office. There was a huge banner strung across the space, announcing: "Edward & Bella – Congratulations" in huge red lettering, plus dozens of red, white and blue balloons and equally colourful bunting. Stopping dead as they came through the double glass doors into the open area, everyone turned towards them and started applauding.

Bella gasped and covered her mouth, then looked up at Edward, who was frowning in confusion. Before either of them could speak, however, Rose emerged from the centre of the crowd, with Emmett following close behind her.

She walked straight up to Edward and threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him hard; and, after barely a moment's hesitation, Edward found himself reciprocating with equal enthusiasm. At the same time, Emmett had swept Bella up into his arms, leaving her feet dangling, as he enveloped her in what could only be described as a bear hug.

"Bel-laaaaa," he shouted, nearly deafening her.

"Oomph, Emmm," Bella mumbled, barely able to speak as he squeezed all the oxygen out of her lungs.

Extricating himself from Rose's arms, Edward put his hand on his friend's arm. "Ease up there, big man, she did get shot."

Immediately, Emmett put her down, but held onto her arms as she wobbled breathlessly in front of him.

"Whoa, sorry, Bells. Are you okay?" His eyes scanned over her worriedly.

"I'm fine, Emmett, really. It's good to see you too!" she laughed, when she finally had breath to do so.

Emmett grinned, leaned forward to kiss her hard on the forehead and then flicked his eyes up to Edward.

Letting Bella go with a final affectionate pat on her cheek, he stepped around her to stand in front of Edward. Bella turned to watch them, seeing something silent pass between the two men, something only they understood and acknowledged.

"Hey, man, you're looking good, considering you've been used as a human dart board."

Edward smirked and shook his head, but before he could respond, Emmett had stepped forward and pulled his friend into a careful, but no less affectionate, hug.

"Jesus, Ed, you scared us there for a moment… it's good to have you back," he said softly into Edward's ear, his voice full of emotion.

Edward squeezed him back, but said nothing… unable, for a moment, to articulate how much it meant to him to be here, now, with these people whom he realised were his family. Pulling back, he looked across at Rose rocking his beautiful wife from side to side in a warm embrace, and he smiled.

Then, there were champagne corks popping, and more people coming up to shake his hand or hug the two of them. Everyone talked at once, wanting to know all the sordid details, but mostly expressing their heartfelt relief that they had each returned, more or less in one piece. Interestingly, whilst Edward was quizzed on the dreadful attacks, most of the questions directed towards Bella were about their marriage, with some of the women flashing disappointed looks in his direction.

Various staff members and executives came and went, but after an hour, Edward called a halt and ushered Bella, Emmett and Rose into his office.

Over the next hour or so, Emmett and Rose updated them on events since they were attacked, their story becoming more and more outlandish and unbelievable. It seemed there had been a great deal of surprise when, having got his lawyers to blacken Bella's name whilst she lay in an Italian hospital bed, Aro had subsequently appeared remarkably untouched by his daughter's death at her hands.

The FBI went to talk to him, to find out what Jane was doing in London, and to discuss whether there was a case for extraditing Bella for involuntary manslaughter of a US citizen. He had been unexpectedly tight-lipped and unhelpful, giving them the distinct impression he had something to hide. This had set off alarm bells with the Feds and an investigation was set in motion, the results of which couldn't have been more surprising.

As Emmett and Rose took it in turns to describe the events of the last month, during which time Emmett had stepped in as Acting CEO, Edward and Bella became utterly bemused. The Volturi Group, it seemed, was nothing more than a collection of holding companies and sham businesses, the only legitimate component of which had been its publishing arm. The whole setup, upon investigation, was revealed as a major money laundering facility for organised crime, and as the layers had been peeled back, the fragile house of cards had swiftly tumbled, leaving Aro and Caius exposed. The biggest surprise was just how quickly it had all fallen down, which was due, in no small part, to the brothers' arrogant complacency.

However, another significant factor was that Demetri Constantinou had been brought in for questioning. Embittered by the loss of Jane, Aro's seeming indifference, and the end of his aspirations to return to the Volturi fold, he agreed to spill all their dirty secrets before a Grand Jury, and arrests had rapidly followed.

Edward and Bella sat together on the couch in Edward's office, hand-in-hand, listening to their friends' report with increasing incredulity.

"But a publishing company, Em? I mean, it's hardly what one expects of the Mafia or whoever was behind the Volturis. It all seems so ridiculous… surreal, even." Edward shook his head in disbelief.

"I know, you're right. But it seems that the original publishing company was a small enterprise which was on the verge of going bust, and the Volturis just bought it for a song. It was apparently regarded as the perfect front for money laundering—I mean, who the hell was going to suspect a seemingly respectable publisher? They ran it at a loss, despite millions of dollars' worth of business, which has now got the IRS involved as well, looking into what's probably going to be a multi-million dollar tax fraud.

"So there you have it, Edward," Emmett concluded. "On top of all that, under the Securities Exchange Act, the stock purchased by Jane through one of those suspect holding companies has been deemed to have been illegally obtained, rendering the deal null and void."

"Which means…?" Edward queried.

"Which means, my friend, that the stock reverts to Swan Publishing Inc," he said with a grin.

"Not to the original shareholders?" Bella asked.

"Nope. As they received the full value of the stock in good faith—money which can't be specifically identified as being the proceeds of criminal activity—they no longer have any title over the stock; therefore, it has to be returned to the company."

Edward grinned at Emmett and then turned to Bella, who returned his smile. Kissing her quickly on the mouth, he transferred his attention back to his friend.

"That's fantastic news, Em, just fantastic. I can't thank you enough for stepping in—"

"Can it, Edward, it's what friends do. I don't want your thanks. Besides, I have a vested interest now in what happens, and, in all honesty, I've enjoyed the last few weeks more than I could ever have imagined. Beats corporate law down on Wall Street any day, and I'll be sorry to go back. In fact, I wish I had some more vacation time so I could persuade you both to leave me in charge more often."

He laughed, but stopped when he saw Edward and Bella exchange a look.

"What? Listen, don't mind me, I didn't mean to imply—"

Edward held up his hand.

"It's okay, Em. As a matter of fact… well, Bella and I have been talking, and… are you serious about getting out of corporate law?"

Emmett looked at Rose, who shrugged.

"I don't know, Edward. I mean, yeah, I guess, now that I've got some money, and a stake in SP… well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. Why?"

"Well, the truth is, Em, Rose, I don't think I'm going to be back in New York for a while…" he held up his hand again to forestall any interruption. "Bella's starting college in the fall and she's bought a house in Cambridge—so I'm going to move in with her there."

He looked at Bella, squeezing her hand and smiling. Turning back, he glanced between Emmett and Rose, who were looking a little bemused.

"So, the fact is that I'm going to step down as CEO of the New York business and I'm going to need someone I can trust to step into my shoes. Mike Newton's a great CFO, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd make a lousy CEO. So, if you're serious about wanting to spend more time at SP… well, I can't think of a better man for the job."

Emmett stared at Edward and then at Bella, who smiled warmly at him, nodding. Then, he looked at Rose, who had a broad grin on her face.

"You okay with this, babe?"

"Are you kidding me, Bear? I think it's a fantastic idea."

"But, would you… I mean, would you carry on as my assistant? Do you think we can work together long-term?"

Edward spoke up before Rose could reply.

"Well, that's the other thing, Em. Rose is much more than my assistant—she already practically runs this place when I'm not around. I'd… well, actually Bella had the idea, and _we_ would like to create a new position as Senior Vice President, working directly under you, taking responsibility for all day-to-day operational matters, leaving you to deal with corporate affairs and expanding the business. What do you say?"

Rose's mouth had dropped open. "Seriously, Edward?"

"Seriously, Rose. You'd finally get to put that business degree that you keep banging on about to good use," he grinned.

She turned to the man beside her. "Bear?"

He laughed and threw his arms around her, kissing her soundly on the mouth. Then he turned back to Edward and Bella.

"We'll do it, man. We're in."

They all got up, and started hugging each other, although this time Emmett managed to remember that his friends were still a little fragile.

"Dinner on us tonight," he claimed, as soon as they had all broken apart, and Rose went off to make a reservation at Le Bernadin on 51st Street.

**~o0o~**

The rest of the week went by in a haze of paperwork and meetings, as arrangements were put in place for Edward's resignation as CEO, and Emmett worked on extricating himself from his employers, Schonfeld & Weinstein. At the same time, Bella was given full access to all discussions and meetings, which she found utterly fascinating and diverting.

Nevertheless, she still managed to get some shopping done, wanting to make sure she had something to wear to her birthday party on the 17th.

She and Edward had decided that with a big party being planned for the weekend after her birthday, it would be nice for the two of them to spend the actual day together, just the two of them. However, when Rose discovered that it was her birthday the following Tuesday, she managed to persuade Bella that it was absolutely incumbent upon her to celebrate en masse, or, at least, with herself and Emmett.

"Emmett's practically your brother-in-law, you can't not invite him to celebrate your coming of age—even if you still need fake ID to buy a drink here. _However_… it _is_ legal for you to consume alcohol in the privacy of your home… or our home."

Bella laughed. "But I don't know if Edward's got anything planned, Rose."

"I'll take care of it," she replied, whipping out her phone.

In the end, Rose got her way, as Bella suspected she would, opting to host a dinner party for the four of them. However, at the last minute, on bumping into Angela at the office, Bella invited her and her fiancé, Ben, telling Rose to suck it up, as it was her idea.

She and Edward spent a quiet day on the Sunday, watching the various newscasts and programmes covering the tenth anniversary of 9/11, leaving them in a somewhat sombre mood. Later, as he did every year, Edward called Emmett, who had lost a number of friends and colleagues that ghastly and unforgettable day. Bella left him to talk to his friend, busying herself making dinner. She, of course, had been just a child in 2001, and she couldn't help thinking about the fact that her parents had still been alive then, her heart aching for all those who had lost loved ones.

When Edward finished his call, they ate dinner and spent the rest of the evening in quiet reflection, just holding one another—something that was probably happening in many homes across New York.

**~o0o~**

**Tuesday 13 September 2011**

"Bella."

The soft, velvety voice in her ear made her squirm a little in her sleep, but she didn't wake up.

"Bella."

Now she could feel something hard poking her in the back and she frowned as her sleep-addled brain tried to convince her she'd left a shoe in the bed.

"Hey, wake up, beautiful."

Goosebumps sprang up across her skin, as a large hand encased her left breast, before sliding down, down, down to… _ohhhhh!_

"Edward, mmmmmmh," she sighed, as his fingers slid inside her and she found herself automatically moving her leg back over his in order to give him more room. Instinctively, she moved rhythmically against his hand.

Panting softly, she turned her head, her half-open, dark eyes finding his, which were like two sparkling emeralds.

He leaned over her shoulder and captured her top lip, sucking it in gently, then repeating the gesture with her bottom lip, all the while rubbing insistently at her rapidly-swelling clit.

"Mmmmmh… oh, God, yes, just like th—oh my _God_, oh, fuck, _Edward…_" Bella's ability to form coherent sentences evaporated then, as she climaxed swiftly and comprehensively.

"Happy birthday, beautiful girl."

Bella could hear the smile in his voice, and as he pulled his fingers from her, she turned in his arms and kissed him. She pushed her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, encouraging him to roll on top of her. Without preamble, she opened her legs, allowing him to settle between them and slip inside her wet, welcoming body.

The night before, they had pretty much fucked one another senseless, but this morning it was slow and gentle and so very tender. When they came, it was with smiles and soft moans, rather than the gasping, screaming passion of the dark and quiet hours before dawn.

Spent, Edward looked down at his lovely wife, and silently thanked whatever deity or karmic force was responsible for letting him have her and, more importantly, keep her.

"Mmmmh, best birthday present ever," she sighed, letting her fingers trail down his back.

"I love you, Bella," he whispered, kissing her lightly.

"Yep, and so you bloody should—I'm a catch."

He laughed, which caused his softening cock to slip out of her. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, his arms wrapped securely around her.

"A catch, huh? How so?"

"Well, I've got squillions of pounds, a fab des. res. in Cambridge, and I am hot… like, _smoking_ _hot!_ Crikey, with the luck you're having, you should buy a lottery ticket."

She struggled to get the last words out, as Edward's laughter was vibrating through her and making her head bounce on his chest.

"Dez-rez? What the hell is that?" he chuckled.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Duh—desirable residence? And out of that sentence, that's what you got?" She slapped his chest and went to pull away, but he held her fast.

"Hey, where do you think you're going, birthday girl? I haven't finished with you yet."

And indeed, he hadn't.

**~o0o~**

Later—much later—Edward disappeared to the kitchen for an inordinate amount of time, insisting that Bella remain in bed. Eventually, just as she was starting to doze off again, the bedroom door crashed open as Edward manhandled a large tray into the room and over to the bed, a sheepish grin on his face.

Bella looked down at the tray as he put it on the bed beside her. "Wow, that's… impressive." She looked from the tray to Edward and back again, taking in the veritable mountain of food he had set before her. Apart from a large plate of scrambled eggs, there was a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, four giant strawberries, buttered wholewheat toast, a miniature jar of English marmalade, two tumblers of freshly-squeezed orange juice, a small pot of tea with a cup and saucer and a jug of milk, and a big mug of black coffee, which was obviously Edward's.

Bella stared at it as he manoeuvred himself back into bed with the tray between them. Then he picked up a fork and proceeded to feed Bella and himself, smirking as she opened her mouth in readiness for each forkful of eggs. Then, when the eggs were gone, she made him laugh out loud when she made exaggerated noises of satisfaction whilst munching on her cereal.

But his smile faded, turning to something far darker, when he held a strawberry to her mouth and she bit into it. Juice ran down her chin and dripped onto her chest, but she made no move to wipe it away. Pretty soon they were both doing things with the fruit that would render it inedible, and not long after that the tray ended up being moved onto the floor, whilst Edward ended up on—and in—Bella.

It was almost mid-day when Bella was awoken from a lovely dream, and allowed herself to be led, naked, into the bathroom, where Edward had drawn her a deep, bubbly bath. Helping her in, he left her to settle, returning a couple of minutes later to find her, head back, with her eyes closed, seemingly asleep. He was carrying a bottle of Cristal champagne and two fluted glasses, which he set down on the side of the bath, along with a small, gift-wrapped package.

"Hey, beautiful, scootch up," he whispered, watching her smile and open her eyes slowly. She slid forward and Edward stripped off his boxers and climbed in behind her, pulling her back against his chest, while the hot water sloshed and settled around them. She had twisted her hair up and secured it on top of her head, and he indulged himself by kissing the nape of her neck several times, making her shiver. Twisting round, he filled the two glasses and handed one to Bella, which she chinked against his.

"Happy birthday, my love," he said softly into her ear. She turned her head and he leaned forward to kiss her, before they sipped at their drinks. They were quiet for a moment, and then Edward put his glass down and took Bella's from her hand to set that down as well. He picked up the small package which he had brought with him and held it in front of her.

Bella looked down and took the box from him, turning again to kiss him.

"Ooh, I love presents," she told him, ripping the paper excitedly, to reveal a red leather box with gold tooling, and the word 'Cartier' picked out, also in gold. She was immediately transported back to that day when, on her eleventh birthday, Edward had given her a Cartier name-bracelet. She still had it, packed away amongst all her things at Jessica's, too small to wear but still so precious.

Her eyes filled with tears and she wondered if he'd remembered and bought her a new one, one that would fit. Or perhaps it was a locket with his picture inside, or a strand of his beautiful hair. Then again, he could have bought her earrings, or even a belly button ring.

She was unaware that she was just staring at the box, until she felt Edward's lips against her ear.

"You do know that the box isn't the present, love… that you have to open the box to get to it?"

He kissed her jaw and she could feel his smile against her skin. He leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist. She only had to turn her head a little to kiss his cheek, before returning her attention to the small red box.

Cupping her left hand underneath it, she grasped the lid in her right and pulled it open. The sight which greeted her caused her to gasp aloud, all the air seeming to leave her lungs.

"Edward…" she whispered, her voice choking as she continued to stare at the contents.

He unwound his arms from around her and reached in front of her to take the box from her unresponsive hands. She watched as he took hold of the curved, diamond-encrusted, white metal wedding band with his long, elegant fingers. Setting the box on the side of the bath, he then took her left hand in his and with his right, slid the ring onto the third finger. It fit perfectly.

Bella bit her lip, as she tracked his every movement with her eyes.

He picked up the box again, and removed the second ring, again in white metal, with a large, round, multi-faceted diamond solitaire, with diamonds set into the shank. Again, he took her hand and placed the ring on her third finger where it exactly matched and fitted against the wedding ring.

Edward held her hand up, away from them, so they could both admire the rings. It was only then that Bella noticed the white metal ring on the third finger of Edward's left hand where he held hers.

She sniffed loudly, and the tears she had held at bay finally spilled over and down her cheeks.

"I love you, Bella… so very much," he told her, his voice soft and a little husky against her neck. "I should have done this in Vegas, or, at the very least, the moment we got back to New York, and I will never forgive myself for being such an idiot and for all the hurt I caused."

Bella pulled her hand from his and swivelled round on her knees, causing soapy water to splash over the lip of the bath onto the tiled floor.

Throwing her arms around his neck, she crashed her mouth to his in a passionate kiss. Edward responded immediately, their tongues stroking and tangling with one another. For a long minute, all that could be heard was the ragged sound of the two lovers as they desperately breathed through their noses, together with the glug and splash of the bath water.

Edward moaned as Bella's thigh rubbed against his cock, which lay hard and heavy between them. He broke the kiss, pulling back from her a little.

"So, you like the rings, then," he asked, breathing heavily.

Bella nodded, her eyes wide and shining. "I like yours even better," she said.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Now everyone can see that you're taken… that you're mine."

He reached a hand up and stroked his thumb across her cheek. "God, I love the sound of that."

"Me, too," she told him, raising herself up a little and reaching down to wrap her fingers around him, guiding him to her entrance and then sinking down. Their mutual groans of pleasure were accompanied by the splash of yet more water cascading over the side of the bath. The lovers moved slowly, almost lazily, building gradually to their climaxes, which washed over them simultaneously, much like the warm, soap-softened bath water.

**~o0o~**

Needless to say, they were late arriving at Rose and Emmett's, which earned them some knowing looks and a lot of ribbing from Emmett. It didn't take long, however, for Rose and Angela to spot Bella's new jewellery, which caused gasps and tears of delight from the women, and scowls from the men.

Edward merely smirked, his impersonation of the cat that got the cream _and_ the pussy absolutely pitch-perfect.

As for Bella, well, the sight of all the beautifully wrapped gifts made her glad she had let Rose talk her into this—and, truth be told—her poor, over-worked vaj was happy for the respite, no matter how brief.

Sitting on the couch next to Edward, she extracted her right hand from his tight grip, and took the package held out by Rose. She unwrapped it slowly, relishing the moment, until she revealed a beautiful brown leather Valentino handbag with a chain shoulder strap, which elicited a squeal of delight.

"Oh, Rose, it's gorgeous. Thank you so much."

Edward rolled his eyes, wondering, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, just how many purses one woman needed.

Emmett picked up a gift from the coffee table and handed it to Bella with a smile.

"Here ya go, Bells—a proper gift that you can use." He smirked at Rose's scowl.

Bella pursed her lips at him. "I will so use this bag, Emmett. I mean, look at it… it's Valentino!"

Edward chuckled, the implied but unspoken 'duh' at the end of that sentence completely clear to everyone.

She ripped the paper from Emmett's gift, revealing a Mont Blanc box, inside of which was a beautiful black lacquer and platinum rollerball pen. The lacquer was grooved, making it feel like an old-fashioned vinyl record, and Bella then noticed the 'John Lennon Special Edition' legend on the box.

"Wow, Em, this is beautiful. Thank you, big man."

"Well, I thought, John Lennon was British, you're British…"

She laughed. "Yeah, Lennon and me… so much in common! Seriously, though, Emmett, I love it." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, making him grin from ear to ear.

Then Angela handed Bella her gift. "This is from me and Ben. I hope you like it, but if you don't we can get you something else."

Bella smiled as she took the proffered gift. "I'm sure I'll love it, Angela—and, really, you didn't have to."

Angela waved her hand dismissively as Bella unwrapped her last present. Inside was a square box sporting the Vivien Westwood logo, and inside was a watch. It was made of satin stainless steel, inset with tortoiseshell, and a tortoiseshell bezel surrounding a silver face with the Westwood signature curved heart.

"Oh my God, Angela—"

"Um, we had it engraved on the back," Angela murmured, pointing.

Bella turned it around to read the back, which read: _To Bella, with love, Angela & Ben – 09.13.2011_

Eyes welling, she looked up at her two new friends, giving them a shaky smile.

"Thank you, both of you, it's… oh, Angela, it's beautiful," she said softly, her voice breaking. She hugged them both and then sat back, holding the watch out to Edward to fasten around her wrist.

As Rose announced dinner and led the way into the dining room, Bella paused in the doorway and slipped her arms around Edward. Looking up at him, she reached up on tiptoe in order to brush her lips against his.

He smiled down at her, his eyes a vibrant green. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"Because I love you, and I'm so happy I could burst. This has been the best birthday ever."

He kissed her again, harder and deeper than before, only breaking off when Emmett yelled at them to 'either get your asses to the table or get a room!'

**~o0o~**

As the anniversary of Bella's birth finally passed, tipping over into the early hours of her nineteenth year, she lay in Edward's arms, her left hand resting on his chest, gazing at the elegant rings on her finger.

"You're sure you like them, B?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bella glanced up at his strikingly handsome face and smiled. "I love them, Edward, they're beautiful… absolutely perfect," she breathed.

They were silent for a minute or two, as Bella's fingers traced meaningless patterns on his chest. After a while, she looked up at him, only to meet two very pensive green eyes staring intently back at her.

"What's got you looking so serious?"

He sighed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling and running his free hand through his hair.

"I just wish…"

She raised herself up on one elbow, frowning at him.

"What? Tell me, Edward."

He looked at her, then looked away again.

"I wish I could take back that awful wedding. I wish we could have done it properly, with you in a beautiful white dress, walking up the aisle—"

Bella pressed a finger to his lips.

"I don't care about any of that, Edward. And if I can't have my father walk me down the aisle, then I don't really want to do it. I just want to be married to you, and I am. The why and the how simply don't matter. All that really matters is that we're here, now, bloodied but unbowed, and that we love each other—it's all I'll ever want, Edward; the rest is just window dressing."

He pushed himself up and rolled Bella onto her back, hovering over her. "God, I love you, Bella Cullen," he growled, before kissing her hard and deep.

**~o0o~**

**Saturday 17 September 2011**

The day of Bella's birthday party dawned clear and bright—a wonderful example of a late English summer's day. She and Edward had arrived in Buckinghamshire the evening before, sharing a fun and noisy dinner with Jessica's and Lauren's families. All eight bedrooms were in use, as well as the accommodation over the stables, where several of their school friends were staying. Still more were housed at local hotels and pubs.

Bella had chased Edward out of the bedroom when it became clear she would never manage to get dressed or make it to breakfast if he remained in the room with her. Having had her before they got up, then in the shower, and again, bent over the dresser while she looked for underwear, he finally allowed himself to be pushed out the door.

When Bella finally descended the stairs to the entrance hall, she immediately noticed the front door was flung wide and a number of people seemed to be milling about in the driveway. Puzzled, she was standing on the last step when Edward made his way indoors, some papers in one hand and what looked like a set of keys in the other.

As he came through the door he looked up and saw Bella standing on the stairs, and a big grin erupted across his face.

"Hey, beautiful. That's what I call perfect timing."

He walked up to her and held his hand out for her to take, which she did without hesitation, giving him a quizzical smile.

At that moment, Jessica and Lauren burst through the door, their eyes bright with excitement. The moment they saw Bella, they stopped dead in their tracks, emitting loud squeals. However, before they could say a word, Edward held up a warning finger, giving them a stern look, which silenced them both, their eyes wide and mouths dropping open. He grinned at them and then turned to an increasingly bewildered Bella. With her hand still in his, he pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips. Then, letting go of her hand, he held the papers out behind him and, without taking his eyes from Bella's, asked the girls to hold onto them for him, at the same time slipping the keys into the pocket of his jeans. From the other pocket he withdrew a bright, multi-coloured silk scarf.

Bella's brows knitted together as she looked at the vividly hued piece of material.

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

Edward smirked at her. "Trust me?"

Her eyes came back to his. "I suppose…" she replied warily.

"Turn around."

Hesitantly, she complied, then gasped as she felt Edward loop the scarf over her head and then secure it across her eyes, knotting it behind her. It wasn't tight, but it effectively rendered her blind and she put her hands up to move it.

"Ah, ah, don't touch. It's just for a minute, B, so please, humour me."

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to face him. She felt him lean into her, his nose gliding across her cheek until she felt his breath against her ear.

"Hmm, I rather like you like this. Perhaps we should try this again… in private," he murmured, making a shiver of pure desire ripple through her entire body, causing her nipples to harden painfully and a gush of arousal to dampen her underwear.

He chuckled, fully aware of the effect he was having on her. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her towards the door.

"Where are we going?"

"Just outside for a couple of minutes, my love. Here, mind the step… that's it, one down, two…" He counted her down to the bottom of the steps and then stopped her.

Bella could hear excited whispering going on around her and a lot of giggling, but the only person she was tuned into was Edward.

"Happy birthday, my beautiful wife. I love you very much."

She turned towards him. "But… it's not my birth—"

At that moment, he pulled the scarf up and away from her eyes, and Bella turned to look around. There in the drive was a brand new, metallic blue Mini Cooper.

There were squeals and the sound of people clapping, but Bella only had eyes for one person.

"What… Edward… what is this?" she gasped, utterly bemused.

"It's your birthday present, love," he told her, an enormous grin on his face.

"But… but my rings—"

"Are something I should have given you when we got married. This, my beautiful girl, is for your eighteenth birthday. But if you don't want it…"

"What? No… yes… of course I want it. Oh my God, Edward!"

She threw her arms around his neck and showered his face with kisses.

He pulled the keys out of his pocket, and, with one last kiss on her mouth, he pulled back.

"So, wanna take me for a ride, beautiful?" he asked softly… lasciviously.

Bella laughed. "Ooh, wanna see if you can shag me in the back seat of a Mini, Edward? How 1960s of you. I'll probably have to hang my legs out the windows on either side!"

There was laughter from behind, and Bella blushed to her roots as she remembered that they weren't alone. She buried her face in his chest, but was unable to keep it there due to his own laughter.

She swung round to face the assembled group, comprising her school friends, Jessica's parents, brothers and their friends, and Lauren's parents. Her face still ablaze, she made a shooing motion at them.

"Bugger off, you lot, I want to thank my husband properly for his brilliant birthday present."

With laughs and a few cat-calls, they all started drifting away, some back into the house and others to the stables and grounds.

Turning back, Bella slipped her hands into the hair at the back of Edward's neck and pulled him down for a long, positively sizzling kiss. As soon as she felt him harden against her hip, she pulled away and snatched the keys from his unresponsive hand.

"Come on, then, let's go for that ride," she laughed.

**~o0o~**

The party was in full swing, as Bella slipped away from the dance floor to make her way out of the open doors of the Orangery, leading to the rear of the Manor. From round the corner, she could hear laughter and the clink of glasses coming from the pool area, but here it was cool and relatively quiet. She sat down on the edge of one of the large planters surrounding the patio area, bracing her hands on either side of her and tipping her head back.

"Hey, my little swamp duck, whatcha doin'?"

Bella turned towards the voice and smiled.

"Hey, Jizz."

Her friend sat down beside her on the planter, and for a minute they were both quiet, letting the beat of the music coming from inside the house fill the silence.

"So, Bell, are you having fun?"

Bella looked at her dearest friend and smiled warmly. "I'm having the best time, Jess. Thank you so much for this."

Jessica knocked her shoulder against Bella's, shaking her head. "My pleasure, dollface. Besides, mummy did all the hard work," she laughed.

"I know that's not true. Anyway, where's Lobz?" Bella looked around Jess to try and peer inside the orangery.

"Ugh, she's playing tonsil tennis with Xander, would you believe? Eww, it's disgusting!" She gave a mock shudder and then grinned at Bella. "I swear, if she tries to get her leg over in my bedroom with my own brother, I will make her wear nipple clamps for a week!"

The two girls laughed, and rested their heads together. After a moment, Jessica reached over and picked up Bella's left hand, rubbing her thumb over Bella's wedding and engagement rings.

"These are gorgeous, Bell."

Bella simply nodded, as they both sat for a moment regarding her hand.

"He loves you so much, Bella," Jessica said, her voice full of quiet sincerity. "He can hardly keep his hands off you and when you're away from him, his eyes follow you everywhere."

Bella dropped her hand and looked at Jess, her eyes a little glassy. "Oh, Jess, I love him so much that sometimes it hurts… you know? It's like… I don't know… like in Jane Eyre, when Rochester says there's a string tying their hearts together… it feels like that, and if I go too far, the string pulls and I have to get back to him before it starts to hurt too much."

"Wow, that's… God, I hope I find that one day."

Bella grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it. "You will, sweetie, I'm sure."

"You know, you two should get married again, or, like, have a blessing or something."

"Ugh, neither of us are religious, and I already told Edward that without Daddy to walk me down the aisle, I'm not bothered."

"But you could have a… what's it called? You know, like a non-religious thing. Um… oh, a renewal of your wedding vows? And then you could walk down the aisle together… or not even have an aisle."

"Now, there's an idea!"

Both girls looked round at the sound of Edward's rich, velvety tones, as he exited the house to join them on the terrace.

Jessica put her arm round Bella's shoulders, squeezing her, then kissed her on the cheek. Getting up, she put her hand lightly on Edward's arm, smiling up at him, before going back into the orangery to rejoin the party.

"Hey, sweet girl, I was wondering where you were. Are you okay?" he asked softly, coming to stand in front of her and holding his hand out.

Bella smiled up at him, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet.

"I'm so much better than okay, my love. I just needed to cool down a bit."

"Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?" he asked, clasping their joined hands to his heart and slipping his other hand around her waist so he could pull her closer.

They started swaying gently to the music coming from the house and Bella rested her head against his chest, her free hand sliding up around his neck and into his hair.

"Hmmm, yes, I think you may have mentioned it a couple of times," she smiled.

"You know, I rather like Jessica's idea."

Bella lifted her head to look up at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Suddenly he moved away from her and, still holding on to her left hand, he dropped to one knee, as Bella's mouth fell open and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Isabella Marie Swan Cullen, I love you with every fibre… every molecule of my being, and I promise to love you every minute of every hour of every day until I die. Will you please, please marry me… again?"

His eyes, intense and dark in the half-light cast by the orangery lights and the garden lanterns, never left hers for a second.

For a long moment, Bella was transfixed above him, before, mindless of the hard concrete, she knelt down in front of him, drawing their clasped hands to her breast, whilst her other hand cupped his cheek.

"Oh, Edward, I will never, ever stop loving you. Of course I'll marry you… or renew our vows… or whatever the hell you want." Her voice broke on the last word, as tears welled up and spilled down her face.

As Edward wrapped his arms round his wife, he realised he, too, was crying. But it didn't matter. Their tears combined as their lips met in a kiss full of happiness and emotion. Neither of them noticed the people pouring out onto the patio and applauding, lost in each other as they were.

In Edward's arms, Bella knew she would always feel safe and loved, cherished, whole.

And in Bella's arms, Edward knew he had found his home, his heart, his reason for living.

* * *

**END NOTES:**

I hope no one is offended by the mention of the 9/11 anniversary. The time period specifically covers that date, and I felt it would be disrespectful to gloss over it while they were in New York – it was far too major and important an event to ignore.

You can find all the visuals, including Bella's birthday presents, posted in my Facebook group (FB URL followed by /groups/417364658302809/) or on my story blog, a link to which is posted on my FFn profile.


	39. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

This is the end, beautiful friends…

* * *

**EPILOGUE – WE HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD**

**Saturday 7 April 2012**

Lauren paced up and down, her face pinched with worry.

"This is weird… unnatural… you must be on drugs… shit, if you are, give me some."

Jessica sighed in frustration. "For God's sake, Lobz, do get a grip."

"Get a grip? So, what, you're saying it's not freakish in any way?" Lauren stopped in front of Jess, then resumed her frantic pacing.

"Well, I suppose it is a little freakish, but… well, everyone handles this sort of thing differently."

"That's as may be, but what happens if this is just a front? What if this is the eye of the storm, and halfway through, the hurricane hits and everything goes tits up, eh?" She threw her hands in the air and spun around to look towards the window seat, where her other best friend sat gazing at the view, her knees pulled up and a seraphic little smile on her face.

She turned her head slowly to look at Lauren and Jessica, who were dressed in identical, dove grey, cowl-necked dresses, which ended mid-thigh. Their blonde hair was pinned into elegant chignons, with matching, silvery fascinators, and on their feet they wore silver, high-heeled Christian Louboutin pumps.

Bella's smile grew as her eyes swept over them.

"You both look amazing." She beamed at them.

"Hell's teeth, Bellend, how can you be so bloody calm?"

Bella laughed lightly and swung her legs off the seat so that she was facing them.

"Why wouldn't I be calm?"

Lauren threw her arms in the air. "Oh, I don't know. Because you're getting married? To the hottest man on the planet? Who will clearly be champing at the bit to throw you over his shoulder and take you somewhere quiet—although not necessarily private—to roger you arseways to Sunday?"

Bella threw her head back and laughed delightedly, before carefully wiping a finger under each eye to catch any tears before they made her makeup run.

"Oh, Lauren, you are silly. First of all, we're already married. Secondly, all we're going to do is tell each other how much we love one another before we get to kiss and then go eat some scrummy food. Thirdly, if Edward wants to drag me away for a little post-nuptial rumpy pumpy, I've already sussed out the best place to go—which is quiet _and_ private—and he'll get no argument from me."

"But what if you trip, or forget your vows, or throw up in your mother-in-law's lap?"

Chuckling, Bella shook her head at her friend.

"If I trip, Edward will be there to catch me. If I forget my vows, I'll make it up—just about the easiest thing in the world is telling Edward what he means to me and how much I love him.

"As for throwing up on his mother, she isn't here—something about her husband being ill. And if you're talking about his step-mother, then I'm pretty sure I won't throw up on her, as she actually seems okay—at least, she seems nicer than Edward led me to believe she was. Anyway, who says I'm going to puke?"

Lauren shrugged, but at least seemed somewhat mollified by what Bella had said.

"You've got it bad, eh, Bell?"

"Oh, I think you can safely say, I'm terminally in love," she grinned. "But, hey, regardless of my disconcerting lack of nerves, I still need a hug from my bezzas."

She stood and held her arms wide, and the two girls immediately walked into her embrace as they held each other tight.

"Will the three minge-keteers ever ride again?" Jessica asked wistfully, pulling away a little.

"Hey, none of that defeatist talk. Of course we will. I mean, we're going to carry on meeting up whenever we get the chance, the same as we have since we started uni, aren't we? We can't let life get in the way of friendship—I will always need you both."

"Oh, now stop it, or we'll all end up in a massive snot-fest," Lauren said, pulling away to retrieve a tissue.

Just at that moment, there was a light rap on the door, and Jess turned to answer it. Opening it wide, she smiled at the sight of the inhumanly handsome man standing on the other side.

Dressed in a dark Gucci suit, which accentuated and flattered his lean, muscular body, broad shoulders and long limbs, he looked like a movie star waiting to hit the red carpet. Bella drew in a sharp breath as her heart seemed to skip arrhythmically inside her chest.

_Lord, will I ever get used to how gorgeous he is?_

Edward stepped across the threshold and stood inside the door, staring at the vision of loveliness before him, and wondered if his heart was big enough or strong enough to contain the adoration he felt for this wondrous woman. As he looked at her, he held up his hand and made a twirling motion with his finger, prompting her to turn slowly for his inspection.

Bella was wearing a sleeveless cream silk and lace dress with a plunging neckline, which adhered to her body and was cinched below her breasts with a wide, cream satin sash, tied in a large bow beneath the even deeper plunging back. The delicate lace then fell straight down and pooled around her feet.

Her long, chestnut hair was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck and then fell in thick, soft curls down her back, with small white flowers woven through it.

He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

"You… are… breathtaking… spectacular," he breathed.

She beamed at him, willing the tears away, and took another deep breath to steady herself.

"Well, I must say, you scrub up pretty well yourself," she told him, her voice still a little breathy.

Suddenly galvanised into action, he closed the distance quickly with his long strides, and pulled her into his arms.

"How about you and me skip the talky bit and go straight to the honeymoon stuff?" he asked huskily, trailing light kisses along her jawline.

"Don't you bloody dare!"

Edward swivelled his head to look over his shoulder, as Bella quirked her own to one side to peer over his other shoulder.

Lauren had both hands on her hips and was looking daggers at them.

"You owe us a bloody wedding, you two, and by God, we're going to get one. Now, you're allowed one kiss—without smearing the lippie—and then we're all on parade. Right?"

Bella nodded, wide-eyed.

Edward merely turned back to Bella and smirked at her before kissing her lightly. Pulling back, he turned to face the two girls.

"Okay, after you, lovely ladies," he said, shooing them out the door.

He then turned to look once more at his beautiful wife and, smiling, held his arm out to her.

"Shall we, Mrs Cullen?"

"Let's, Mr Cullen," she responded, grinning back at him.

They walked to the door, which was wide enough for them to pass through together. As they did so, the opening bars of "All the Time in the World" by Louis Armstrong filled the air, and with smiles that were impossible to wipe from their faces, they followed Jessica and Lauren through the exquisitely beautiful Grand Hall of Hampton Court Palace, between rows of chairs where all their loved ones and friends sat, all straining their necks to watch the ecstatic couple approach.

**~o0o~**

"We have gathered today in the love of friendship and family to celebrate a renewal of marriage vows between Edward and Bella. As their family and close friends, each of you has played a role in bringing them to this day and, in various ways, will continue to support and contribute to their marriage. We solemnize this significant event in their lives and enter into this ceremony in an attitude of respect for their steadfast and on-going commitment to each other.

"Bella and Edward, although I am officiating here today, it is not truly in my power to sanctify or bless your relationship in any way, because the two of you have already done that in your hearts. Today, you proclaim your love anew to the world, and we rejoice with and for you.

"Your future stretches out before you, vast and unknown. But it is a great tribute to your belief in each other that you remain, nonetheless, willing to face those uncertainties together. May the pure, simple love with which you join your hearts and hands again, here today, never fail, but grow deeper and surer with every passing year.

"Edward, would you take Bella's hand and make your vows to her?"

Edward turned to Bella, taking both of her hands in his, and smiled down at her. As their eyes locked, everything around them faded away, captivated as they were by the depth and strength of the love they saw reflected back at each other.

"My beautiful Bella, you are my life, my one true love, my soulmate.

"I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I'm with you.

"I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.

"I love you for the part of me that you bring out; I love you for putting your hand into my heart and passing over all the foolish, weak things that you must surely see there, and for drawing out into the light the best parts of me that no one else had looked quite far enough to find.

"I love you because you have done more than any religion could have done to make me good, and more than any fate to make me happy.

"You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign. You have done it by being yourself.

"And as you soothe my trembling soul just by being in my life, I vow to love you, cherish you, support and protect you all the days—and nights—of my life."

He winked at her and squeezed her hands, causing Bella to take a deep breath and blink away the tears which threatened to spill.

The officiant turned to her. "Bella, would you like to make your vows to Edward?"

She took another deep breath to control her trembling lower lip, and then spoke.

"Edward, you are and always will be the love of my life. I know this the same way I know that the sun will rise tomorrow. This is my promise to you…

"I promise to give you the best of myself and to ask of you no more than you can give.

"I promise to respect you as your own person and to realise that your interests, desires and needs are no less important than my own.

"I promise to share with you my time and my attention and to bring joy, strength and imagination to our relationship.

"I promise to keep myself open to you, to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams.

"I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting.

"I promise to love you in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how. Completely and forever."

She smiled up at him, pulling her right hand from his left and cupping his cheek. She felt the truth of her love for him deep inside her and saw it mirrored in his eyes.

The officiant grinned broadly, looking between them, feeling almost like an intruder. But his job was almost done and he wouldn't waver at the last hurdle.

"Bella and Edward, we are all here today to celebrate your love and devotion to each other. Your example reminds us of love's possibilities. So, let it be known that you are joined inseparably in this lifetime, and that this bond continues.

"Inasmuch as you have sealed this renewal of your marriage vows in the presence of those gathered here, it gives me enormous pleasure to pronounce that you are now, even more than ever before, Husband and Wife. You may, of course, kiss…"

His final words turned into a chuckle, as the two lovers were way ahead of him. Edward released Bella's hands and slipped his arms around her waist to pull her to him. At the same time, Bella's arms went around his neck, her hands sliding into his hair and gripping hard as she tugged him down to her. As their lips met, they simultaneously whispered 'I love you', and then they were kissing, deep and hard, barely conscious of the enthusiastic applause going on behind them.

**~o0o~**

_"Have I told you lately that I love you?_

_Have I told you there's no one above you?_

_Fill my heart with gladness,_

_Take away my sadness,_

_Ease my troubles, that's what you do."_

Edward sang softly in Bella's ear as they swayed together on the dance floor to Van Morrison. It was the first dance and all their family and friends surrounded them, looking on with happy smiles and a few tears as a spotlight followed them. But they were oblivious, caught up in their own little world where no one else existed.

"What are you thinking, sweet girl?" he murmured, lightly squeezing the hand clasped between them.

Bella looked up from where her head rested against his shoulder, and Edward had to swallow to hold back his emotions. The way the light shone on her gave her skin a luminescent quality, and made it seem as though her head was surrounded by a halo. She was beyond beautiful and he could barely believe she was his.

"Bella…" he breathed.

The hand splayed across her practically naked back pressed her closer to him and he dipped his head in order to capture her lips.

She let him deepen the kiss, opening up to him, as he sucked first on her top lip, then her bottom lip, and then finally slid his tongue against hers.

The unmistakable sound of Emmett demanding they get a room broke through their bubble, and they both pulled away from one another, matching smiles lighting up their faces.

"So, I was thinking, I rather like Esme and Alice." She smirked when he arched an eyebrow at her. "They really aren't as bad as you made them out to be. In fact, Esme is really quite sweet, and Alice… well, she's got a bit of a stick up her arse, but underneath, I think she could be rather fun, if she relaxed and let her hair down occasionally—you should introduce her to your friend Jasper."

"Hmm, I'll take your word for it. And I'm not sure Jasper would thank me for putting him on Alice's radar. So how about my dad… has he managed to charm you as well?"

"More smarm than charm—and he just puts me in mind of a hot towel wrapped around a lump of ice… eventually, the ice will cool and then freeze the towel… oh, bumholes!"

Edward followed Bella's gaze and saw that, as the song ended, and another began, other couples were starting to join them on the dance floor and that his father was now making his way towards them.

Quickly, he looked back down at his wife.

"Can you run in those shoes?" he asked her softly.

Bella giggled. "Wanna find out?"

With that, she hitched up her dress with one hand and put her other in Edward's, letting him pull her quickly through the mass of bodies, the throng opening up before them like the Red Sea, just as his father reached the spot they had so recently vacated.

Their mad dash took them the length of the Great Hall, leaving bemused guests in their wake, until they exploded out of the door, breathless and laughing. They ran lightly down the grand staircase and through another door, until they found themselves in a small courtyard. Glancing quickly around, Edward spotted an arch on the other, through which he could see his Bentley.

He looked at Bella, grinning widely. "Come on, B, let's get out of here."

"But… what about…?" She waved vaguely behind her.

"They're fine—they'll hardly even notice we're gone. There's a free bar, everyone's eaten and the speeches are done. They can have fun without us there."

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him, emerald eyes locked on chocolate. "It's time to leave, Mrs Cullen. It's time to get on with our lives."

He dipped his head and brushed her lips with his, before pulling away again. "I love you, my beautiful Bella."

She smiled up at him, her heart so full she could barely contain her joy. "I love you too, Edward… with all my heart and soul. Let's go home."

**~o0o~**

_I used to have no wolves around me  
I was too free, if that's possible to be  
No safety, is what I mean  
No solid foundation, to keep me._

_But the sun's peeking out of the sky_  
_Where there used to be only gray_  
_The wolf is getting married and he'll_  
_Never cry again_

_Your smile, makes me smile_  
_Your laugh, makes me laugh_  
_Your joy, gives me joy_  
_Your hope, gives me hope_

_Even when terrible things are happening,_  
_You laugh and that's the thing I love_  
_about you most_

_Your smile makes me smile_  
_Your hope gives me hope_  
_The sun's peeking out of the sky_  
_Where there used to be only gray,_  
_The wolf is getting married and he'll never cry again_

_**The Wolf is Getting Married **_~ Sinead O'Connor

**THE END**

* * *

**END NOTES:** And that is that! Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for coming along for the ride. There won't be any more Wild Child, as I will be moving on to other ideas.

For parts of Edward's and Bella's vows I paraphrased extracts from poem's called _'Love'_ by Roy Croft and _'I Promise'_ by Dorothy Colgan, as they seemed to perfectly sum up what these two wanted to say to one another.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, whose skills and support were invaluable throughout; she was the first person to see Chapter One, and her enthusiastic encouragement persuaded me to take the plunge and share it with you. To Cared, who pimped this story out all over the net week after week, offering such sound and helpful advice; and to Midnight Cougar who had the inspired idea of a Facebook group and did all the hard work for me in setting it up. Meeting and interacting with all the wonderful people who have joined the group has been an absolute blast, and I'll still be hanging out there to talk about this and other stories which I hope to write.

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed rec'd and pimped this story to their friends and who said the most wonderful things about my writing. I wish I could buy you all a drink. I absolutely will respond to every single one of you who reviews this last chapter - just make sure you sign in, otherwise I won't be able to reply.

If you're on Facebook, you can still join my closed group, Fiction & Fluffery. Just go to FB and then insert: groups/417364658302809/ after the FB URL – it's where you will find visuals, such as Bella's wedding dress, rings and birthday presents, information and audio teasers (should you want to hear bits of the story read with an English accent!), and where we just generally talk bollocks amongst ourselves. It's also where I will be posting information about my new story. Alternatively, if you would like to view all the visuals in full screen, slide show format, you can find them all on my story blog – link on my FFn profile.


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